*/ 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIML WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
.J^uM f^-'^f' 
 
 -<! 
 
ROEBUCK 
 
 % fobfL 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 M. DOOLADY, PUBLISHER 
 
 448 BiiooME Steeet. 
 
 186G. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18G(5, 
 
 BY M. DOOLADY, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United Slates, 
 
 for the Southern District of New York. 
 
 'W. GAXNOX, STEKEOTYPEU, JonX J. REED, PUIXIEB, 
 
 No. 105 Na^u St.. N. Y Rear 43 Centie St.. N. Y. 
 
'^t^M/A^ 
 
 COMT^BHTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I. —The Faiif\ixe3 of Roebuck. - - - 5 
 
 11. — Slaves at Roebuck. - - - - 13 
 
 III.— Visitors at Roebuck, - - - - 28 
 
 IV.— Table-Talk at Roebuck. - - - 43 
 
 V. — Roebuck Threatened-. - - - - 55 
 
 VI.— War. Go 
 
 VII. — Secession. -.- - - - -71 
 
 VIIL— Drink. ...--- 84 
 
 IX. — Poor Whites near Roebuck. - - - 97 
 
 X.— Willowbank. lOG 
 
 XL— The Volunteers. - - - - - 113 
 
 XII.— Manassa. 121 
 
 XIIL— ADuel. 133 
 
 XIV.— Roebuck after Manassa. . - - 150 
 
 XV. — Combyx at Roebuck. - - - - 161 
 
 XVI. — Conspiracies. - - - - - 172 
 
 XVII.— lusurreclion. - - - ' - - - 183 
 
 XVIIL— Love at Roebuck. - - - - 108 
 
 XIX.— Tremaiae. 210 
 
 XX.-GabrieL 223 
 
 557G74 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 CnAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXI. — Bushwhacking at Roebuck. - - - 233 
 
 XXII. — Yengeaucc. - - - - - 213 
 
 XXIII.— Baxter. - - - - - -251 
 
 XXIV.— Albert Palmer's Love. - - - 2G0 
 
 aXXV.— :Mark Marlin. - - - - - 270 
 
 XXVL— The Journey. - - - ' - - 281 
 
 XXVII —Doctor Dick. 201 
 
 XXVIII.— Hugh Fitzhugh. - - - - 297 
 
 XXIX.— Washington. 306 
 
 XXX.— Frederic Fairfax. - - - - 316 
 
 XXXI.— The End. 323 
 
ROEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE FAIRFAXES OF KOEBUCK. 
 
 Roebuck was onp of the finest estates in the conn- 
 try. Its acres were reckoned by thousands, and the 
 slaves upon it were numbered by hundreds. It has 
 been equally admired for beauty and fertility. Before 
 it was laid waste by the ravage^ of invasion, taste, 
 skill and industry in improving, cultivating and 
 adorning it had brought the effects of art to rival the 
 luxuriant beauty of nature. In front of the plantation 
 Deer River sweeps with gentle curves — a pretty 
 stream, scarcely entitled to the appellation of a river. 
 From the margin of the stream spreads out a wide 
 and fertile bottom to a bluff about fifty feet high, and 
 from the bluff a table of undulating land extends to 
 the foot of a hill called Elk Ridge. Several brooks, 
 flowing from the ridge to the river, cut the plateau 
 with ravines and dells, and supply the fields with 
 water. The native forest, covering many hundred 
 acres together, and scattered here and there in small 
 groves, contributes to the various beauties of the land- 
 scape and to the more substantial uses of the planta- 
 tion. Upon the table land, a furlong from the bluff, 
 and surmounting a gentle eminence, stands Cstood, 
 
6 ROEBUCK, 
 
 alas !)a large and elegant mansion, -which, a few years 
 ago, replaced a more ancient edifice, then destroyed 
 by accidental fire. Before the house a gi'assy lawn 
 extended belo>v the blulT, which there declined into 
 the bottom 'with gradual slope. About the mansion 
 trim walks, edged with box, led among evergreen or 
 flowering shrubs and trees of rare foliage or stately 
 altitude, both of native and foreign origin, and 
 through a flower-garden blooming with all the floral 
 glories of Virginia, At a greater distance orchards, 
 vineyards, meadows and fields of corn, tobacco, wheat 
 and other crops, in the orderly circle of their seasons, 
 rewarded the busy hand of skilful culture r^'ith the 
 ripe gifts of a genial climate and prolific soil. In 
 various directions might be seen the negro quarters, 
 hamlets of white cabins, with their "patches," or 
 kitchen-gardens attached. On every side the build- 
 ings, fences, implements and modes of cultivation, 
 showed the intelligent spirit of modern improvement, 
 though here and there might be detected, also, traits 
 of the pride of inheritance and marks of veneration 
 for old usages and traditions. 
 
 The new mansion and the modern improvements 
 were the work of Colonel Frederick Fau-fax, the 
 last who has borne that name. Both the name of 
 Frederick and the title of Colonel devolved upon him 
 by a kind of inheritance, as if they were annexed to 
 the estate. Dui-ing three generations they designated 
 the proprietor. The first Colonel Frederick had won 
 the rank in actual service. The title was transmitted 
 by country courtesy to the son, who inherited his 
 name and estate, and, after two generations, it became 
 an easy trick of inheritance, by custom, to invest Fred- 
 erick, the succeeding son and heir, with the same title qOt 
 
ROEBUCK. 7 
 
 when he came into possession of the same estate, 
 i This was a natural expression of courtesy on the part 
 of a community that always respected pedigrees, 
 ' nourished traditions, admired martial virtues and 
 affected military honors. But the title, thus derived, 
 was seldom conferred Avith his name in full upon the 
 third Frederick Fairfax. He was usually but " Colonel 
 Fred." to his neighbors. The humblest of them often 
 saluted him with that flimiliar brevity, and he was 
 thus commonly styled throughout the country. It 
 may be thence inferred that he had affable manners, 
 and a frank, cheerful, sunny disposition. This happy 
 temper relieved, without disguising, his pride of birth. 
 His fortune excited no envy, yet familiarity never 
 degraded the dignity of his demeanor. He was a 
 man of tall, commanding stature, of vigorous frame and 
 graceful action, with bold, but regular features. His 
 complexion was fair and fresh, but imbrowned by the 
 Bun. His eyes were blue, and his hair, of light brown, 
 was soft, wavy and inclined to curl. It began to note 
 the years with a few silver threads — white marks of 
 happy years. He was nearly sixty. His mind was 
 large, penetrating and remarkable for sound judg- 
 ment in the affairs of life. In conduct he was gentle, 
 honorable, brave and energetic. When he was young 
 he earned away the honors of the University. Then 
 he spent in the healthy pleasures of the country and 
 in visiting cities, the period assigned by custom to 
 young gentlemen of wealth for recreation between the 
 discipline of youth and the responsibilities of man- 
 hood. Whilst he was thus enjoying leisure, his popu- 
 lar manners, the reputation of his scholastic triumphs 
 and the general respect for his family, induced the 
 people of the county to elect him as their represeu- 
 
8 ROEBUCK.. 
 
 tative in the legislature of that State. He had scn'cd 
 several sessions in that body with rising credit, when 
 the death of his father called him, at the age of thirty, 
 to the care of his estate. Thencefoxlh he devoted 
 himself to agriculture and to the duties of a private 
 citizen. In the management of a large estate, and in 
 the performance of his proper part as a gentleman of 
 prominent position and leading influence in his 
 county, he found employment for his ability and 
 energy. He was among the most successful planters 
 of Viro-inia. Free from the canker of avarice, he felt 
 an honorable ambition to excel in whatever he at- 
 tempted and a liberal pleasure in the protitable em- 
 ployment of all the means intrusted to his care. He 
 was proud of the public benefits which resulted from 
 the improvements he introduced ; he had pride in a 
 princely revenue ; but his benevolence was not less 
 princely. 
 
 As a slaveholder a numerous population depended 
 upon him, and, with his accustomed energy, be exer- 
 cised over them the functions both of guardian and 
 governor. Ko slaves had their wants supplied with 
 more judicious or provident liberality than his ; none 
 were more contented, or with better reason ; but none 
 yielded larger profits from their labor. By regulating 
 their industry according to a well-devised system, by 
 attention to their health, comfort and chced'aluess — 
 by the employment of proper overseers, and by the 
 constant supervision of his own intelligence, he de- 
 rived from the moderate exertions of all ample pros- 
 perity, of which they all partook. Believing the ser- 
 vitude of negroes under a superior race to be a need- 
 ful supplement to then* improvident nature, he did 
 not, with sentimental inconsistency, shrink from the 
 
ROEBUCK. 9 
 
 exercise of the authority and discipline which servi- 
 tude implies. He was a humane master, but he was 
 master. The community under his control was bur- 
 dened with no drones, unless two or three able-bodied 
 but idle pensioners deserved that opprobrious epi- 
 thot. It was a comnmnity which produced within it- 
 self nearly everything that its essential wants re- 
 quired. Among the seiwants were carpenters, shoe- - 
 makers, smiths, weavers and other artisans, skilful in ' 
 their trades. Besides the staple crops, the plantation 
 produced flax, wool and other materials, to be fobri- 
 cated for the use of the negroes. Every m.arried 
 slave was allt)wed a " patch," or kitchen-garden, pro- ^ 
 portioned in size to the number of his family, and the 
 most thrifty among them made more profit from these 
 patches and from sales of fowls and G^g^, than the 
 ordinary wages of laborers. They were, of course, 
 supplied with food and clothing by the master. 
 
 He was not the least industrious member of the 
 community. It was his habit to give the day to busi- 
 ness, until near the hour of dinner, which was about 
 four o'clock. He spent the morning in correspond- 
 ence, or examining accounts or other In-door work, 
 or, more commonly, in riding over his plantation, and 
 giving his personal attention to all its operations. 
 This had been his habit for many years, and now, as 
 he approached the age of three score, his industry was 
 not relaxed. So benignly crept the shadow of age 
 over his active and useful life that " his eye was not 
 dim nor his natural force abaied." 
 
 His wife, some five years younger than himself, was 
 a lady of comely person, and, in character and man- 
 ners, an agreeable type of mature womanhood. She 
 was the daughter of a distinguished public man, and 
 
 1* 
 
10 ROEBUCK. 
 
 before her marria<j:e had been a toast and a belle in 
 the most elevated circle of society. But when she 
 Avas led to the altar, she left upon it all the gay gar- 
 lands of maidenly vanity, and, with the ring, she wore 
 thenceforth the graceful dignities of wedded love. 
 As a matron, she was proud of raatronhood as the 
 proper consummation of a woman's ambition — the 
 natural sphere of her highest duties, honors and de- 
 lights. In Virginia, by the grace of God, women are 
 feminine. They aim to excel in the lovely qualities 
 of their own sex, without competing for the prizes of 
 the other. The form of Mrs. Fairfax had once been 
 delicate, but years, which threatened \\Tinkle8, 
 brought a smooth and pleasant roundness to her 
 cheeks and a more ample dignity to her form. As 
 the wife of a planter and mistress of an extensive es- 
 tablishment, she had many responsibilities and not a 
 few anxieties. But a sense of responsibility, suited 
 to such a station in life, had been cultivated as part 
 of her education, and had been exercised ever since 
 her marriage. Sustained by her husband, she fulfilled 
 the duties of her position with constant and cheerful 
 fidelity. Her life was one of daily usefulness, and 
 her servants were scarcely less indebted to her 
 womanly kindness than to the provident care of their 
 master. Yet, the nature of this gentlewoman was of 
 such delicate texture that she leaned continually upon 
 the strength of her husband, and was dependent upon 
 his society and affection for every hour of her happi- 
 ness. She, to whom so many feeble creatures looked 
 up for protection, looked up to him with a trust 
 almost religious. 
 
 There was no living son to inherit the name and 
 title of " Colonel Fred." Several children had died. 
 There remained only one daughter. The loss of chil- 
 
ROEBUCK. 11 
 
 dren had boon almost tlie sole fifFiiction of Colonel 
 Fairfax and his wife during their married lives. 
 Their parental affection Avas now concentrated upon 
 theii* daughter, Julia. She was about the age of 
 twenty. She had the fair skin and brown hair of her 
 father, with the hazel eyes of her mother. In person 
 she rather surpassed the middle height of woman, 
 but was not quite tall. Her form might have been 
 deemed too slender for perfect beauty, but its outlines 
 were round enough for grace. Her face cannot be 
 described featm-e by feature, w^ithout producing a 
 false idea of its character. All who saw it pro- 
 nounced it beautiful ; but those who saw it only once 
 might dispute with each other what was its chief at- 
 tribute. Such was the transparent sincerity of her 
 countenance, that the £»)ecial charm of her beauty 
 changed with her emotions. Her customary manner 
 was one of modest and winning gentleness. But she 
 often displayed the gaiety of girlhood and innocence. 
 Every tender sentiment, every pure passion impressed 
 itself upon her heart, and flashed its expression in her 
 eyes as pictures are made by a glance of sunlight. 
 Under this versatile delicacy, however, her essential 
 character had the firmness of high principle and 
 almost masculine courage. Being an only child, and 
 loving her parents with reverential devotion, she en- 
 deavored to fill for them the vacant places of sons 
 and daughters. She interested herself in all her 
 fixther's pursuits, promoting his plans and sharing his 
 counsels. She often rode with him over the planta- 
 tion, chatting of crops with a tongue as lively as 
 maidens use to discuss the latest fashion of artificial 
 flowers. By frequent association with her father in 
 manly avocations and pleasures, she may have con- 
 
IS ROEBUCK. 
 
 tracted some modes of thought and feeling somewhat 
 more masculine than the native traits of her char- 
 acter. 
 
 In introducing to the reader the Fairfaxes of Roc- 
 buck, vre should not pass over tlie Colonel's bachelor 
 brother, Richard ; but his loquacious habit will make 
 him known to all w^ho come within the sound of his 
 voice. He had an estate of his own, and kept up a 
 domestic establishment upon it ; but the greater part 
 of his time was spent at Roebuck, or, in winter, at 
 Richmond. He was two years younger than his 
 brother, the Colonel, and was a man of small stature. 
 But by some forgotten trick of nursery nomenclature 
 he had been called in childhood " big brother," and 
 60 he was still sometimes playfully styled by the 
 larger and elder Frederick. He had been educated 
 as a physician, and entered upon the practice of his 
 profession under the influence of young ambition. 
 But, after a few years, the easy mdependence of 
 hereditary acres tempted him away Irom a voca- 
 tion so laborious. He was once disappointed in an 
 affair of love, and that ordinary event, touching one 
 of the keys of a w^himsical nature, made him forsweai" 
 matrimony altogether. He retained the title of 
 Doctor, aud as he grew to be an old bachei)r, he was 
 generally named, with curt familiarity, Doctor Dick. 
 His style of conversation did not repress the liberty 
 which men were inclined to take with his name, for 
 it was frequently a style of satiiical banter and half- 
 comic extravagance. He sometimes affected a bitter- 
 ness of invective that might have convicted him of 
 extreme ill-nature, if his conduct liad not proved that 
 the roughness of his tongue was to his heai't as a 
 ci'abbed preface to a generous volume. 
 
ROEBUCK. 13 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 SLAVES AT ROEBUCK. 
 
 OxE morning in the spring of the year eighteen 
 hundred and sixty-one, Colonel Fairfax, according to 
 his custom, rode out from his house to make the 
 grand round of his plantation. We are not to accom- 
 pany him with a view of observing the scenery of the 
 farm, or of noting the information he obtained or the 
 orders he gave or the progress of cultivation. Those 
 who would learn in detail how the agriculture of Vir- 
 ginia was so greatly improved, as it has been during 
 the last quarter of a century, with immense advantage 
 to both races who inhabit there, will find more 
 authentic sources of information. We are to chroni- 
 cle only a few incidents of the colonel's morning ride 
 that have an interest more personal and less grave 
 than the topics of an agricultural report. 
 
 Not far from the mansion stood several negro cabins 
 in a cluster, and around them swarmed a number of 
 young Africans, looking like bees about their hives, 
 but idling like butterflies in the early sunshine. Rid- 
 ing to the door of one of those cabins, the colonel dis- 
 mounted and entered it to make a visit, which he re- 
 peated almost daily. Within was an old negro man 
 lying upon a bed, from which he rose wiien he saw 
 his master coming to the door. His age was evidently ^ 
 very great, and he reckoned it roundly at a hundred. 
 He wore a long white beard, which he preserved at 
 
U ROEP.UCK. 
 
 the request of his master. His hair was nearly fis 
 white as wool. Rising from the bed he walked feebly 
 with the help of a long cane to a stool, on which he 
 seated himself in obedience to a gesture of the col- 
 onel, after they had shaken hands with each other. 
 The master stood while they held the brief conversa- 
 tion which was so often repeated, and for which old 
 Valentine looked forward as the leading event of his 
 daily life. Before age had impaired his faculties he 
 had been a fair though rather favorable type of his 
 race in Virginia. It was his pride to have served 
 three generations of the Fairfaxes of Ivoebuck. All 
 the respectability of the family was appropriated to 
 Jiimself, but only in comparing his station with that 
 of other negroes. He yielded the place of superiority 
 to the white race without doubt or reluctance, and as 
 he assigned the highest rank in that race to the Fair- 
 fax family, he and the other servants of that family 
 were at the top of the black ladder. Fidelity and 1 
 ^. obedience were the two prime virtues of his class, ' 
 ' according to his moral code. For the rest of moral- 
 ity the masters were responsible. Reason, principle 
 and free will would not have kept him in a right path 
 long if left to himself, but he was capable of under- 
 standing and practicing such simple and direct duties 
 as fidelity and obedience to a master. Through them 
 he was made useful and happy, and was civilized 
 beyond the highest conception of his grandfather, 
 who was a native African, and above the independent 
 attainments of his race during forty centuries. The 
 brutality and treachery of savage blood were nearly 
 extinsfuished in him, and, as a docUe and contented 
 slave, he spent his life in cheerful labor with many 
 merry holidays. In servitude he had the pleasures 
 
ROEBUCK. 15 
 
 which his better nature craved, but not those hip^her 
 enjoyments which couki not be his in any condition. 
 Among temples Avhich all the tribes in Africa could 
 never have built, he learned the practical precepts of 
 a religion whose sublime dogmas his ancesters could 
 not have preserved in memory from the rising to the 
 setting of the sun. And now it was his boast that he 
 had been always a faithful servant, and his master, 
 recognizing the claim which such servitude estab- 
 lished, treated the old man with the kindest care and 
 with sincere respect. 
 
 '• How are you to-day. Uncle Valentine V* he asked, 
 when the antique African was seated. 
 
 "Pretty mis' able, thanks be to de Lord, Master 
 Fred." 
 
 " What's your misery. Uncle?" 
 
 " On'y waitin' for de Lord to take his servant to 
 hesef." 
 
 " Do you want to die then V 
 
 " Never, Master Fred., Lord bless your dear soul, 
 never." 
 
 " How old are you, now ?" 
 
 " Well, you can count it np. I seed Gin'al Wash- 
 inton a crossin' de Delaware when I was seven or 
 fifteen or along thar, and I seed de black filly dey 
 called Flora beat Colonel Dixon's boss Thunder, but 
 you know ef black Dick he had rid Thunder " 
 
 " Oh, I remember. Uncle. Do you get evei-ything 
 you want 1 Do the chaps wait on you properly? Is 
 your bed attended to, and youi- fire and everything V 
 
 " Yes, eveiy thing. Master Fred., thank you. Dis 
 mis' able old nigger gits everything he wants till de 
 Lord he do come." 
 
 " Very well, make them attend to you. Don't for- 
 
IG ROEBUCK. 
 
 get, Uncle Valentine, wlion that white beard grows a 
 little longer I am going to have your picture taken to 
 be hung up beside my grandfiither's.'' 
 
 " Your grandfather, he was de first Colonel Frede- 
 rick. AVhen he tuk me to de army i'oc his body sar- 
 vant, he rode de English boss Hover, and when we 
 come to de camp" 
 
 " Tell me about that to-morrow. Xow come out 
 here into the sunshine. Let me carry your stool for 
 you. There — good-bye." 
 
 '•Lord bless dat boy," said the old man, as his 
 master rode away, " and bless old master, too ; but 
 he's gone afore me long ago to Abram's bosom, thank 
 de Lord for all His marcies." 
 
 At a later hour, and in another part of the planta- 
 tation, the Colonel saw a negro fellow jump up from 
 the ground where he had been lying on his back 
 with his face turned to the sun as duly as a sun- 
 flower. He ran towards a gate through which his 
 master was about to pass and held it open. He was 
 very blaok. His head and heels both stood out rear- 
 ward almost as far as his hips, and his nose lay in 
 ambush behind his lips. An elaborate bow and a 
 sheepish twinkle of his eyes denoted to the Colonel 
 that Ben was waiting there to ask some favor. 
 
 " Well, Ben," he said when he came to the gate, 
 " what do you want ?" 
 
 "Kuffin, Master." 
 
 "You do wait something ; why can't you tell the 
 truth ?" 
 
 *' Dat's it, Maste'/," replied Ben with a grin, show- 
 ing more red than white, " no nigger don^t tell truth ; 
 on'y you's found Ben out, and you knows he lies." 
 Ben giggled as if he relished his own satke, or would 
 laugh his master into favorable humor. 
 
ROEBUCK. 17 
 
 " TVliat (To yon -want, Ben ?" 
 
 "I bin a thinkin', Master, maybe yon'd like to sell 
 this 'ere lazy, lyin' nigger." 
 
 " Sell you! Do you want to be soldi" 
 
 " Yes, Master. I can't keep from lyin', an' I ain't 
 good enough for you." 
 
 " That's not your reason ; but what master have 
 you chosen ?" 
 
 " Dar's Squire Anderson, maybe he mout buy me, 
 'case he don't know much about me f 
 
 " Tell me, Ben, why you wish to be sold ? Are 
 you worked too hard ? Are you not well treated ? 
 Has the overseer done anything to you V* 
 
 " No, Master, de God's truth is, it's jis my wife.'* 
 
 *' You want to get rid of Nancy V 
 
 "Dat's afac'." 
 
 " Why f ' 
 
 " 'Case she's done got religion, and I can't bide her 
 no how." 
 
 " When did she get religion, Ben ?" 
 
 " She done come through last Sunday night." 
 
 " Religion should make her a better wife." 
 
 " No, Master, beg your pardon, religion ain't good 
 for nigger women. She goes prayin' and singin' and 
 beggin' among them religious fellers, and when she 
 comes home from de prayer-meetin's she goes a rollin' 
 on de floor and kickin' up her heels, and won't come 
 to bed all night. She never gives me a good word 
 no more, on'y poor sinner, poor sinner." 
 
 " And what have you done V* 
 
 " I done switch her two, three times, but de reli- 
 gion ain't switched out of her yit. I can't stand it, 
 Master, indeed I can't. I's afeard I'll drown myse f, 
 and you'll lose dis nigger ef you don't sell me." 
 
18 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " You have your eje on another woman at Sqnire 
 Anderson's." 
 
 " Lord, Master, I have never spoke to his Jinny, 
 but once." 
 
 " I understand you, Ben. You are tired of one 
 wife and want another. You are man-ied to Nancy, 
 and have two children. You must stay with her. 
 You make religion an excuse to quarrel with her. 
 You must treat her as a good husband ought, and 
 she shall behave herself as a good wife. If you 
 switch her again I'll direct the overseer to switch 
 you. Go to your work. Begone !" 
 
 Another police case came before the Colonel the 
 same day, that may be worth reporting, as the sub- 
 ject of it will appear again in this narrative. On this 
 occasion he came running up from a ravine to inter- 
 cept his master as he rode along. He was a tall fel- 
 low with a powerful frame and a bullet-head. On his 
 head he wore nothing but a circular fringe of rav- 
 elled straw which had been the rim of a hat. Even 
 this he doffed as he approached his master. 
 
 " What's the matter, Juba?" 
 
 " I's jis gwine to find you, Master." 
 
 " Where do you come fi'om now V 
 
 " From de bush, Master, dat's de truth." 
 
 " How long have you been in the bush V 
 
 " Mighty nigh on to three days." 
 
 " Why did you run away, Juba ?" 
 
 " 'Case de overseer was gwine to whip me." 
 
 " Didn't you deserve a w^hipping?" 
 
 *' I reckon I did. Master, but I don't like to be 
 whipped by dat overseer no how. He's come of a 
 mighty mean family of poor white folks and he don't 
 know how to treat niggers." 
 
ROEBUCK. 19 
 
 " You are impudent, Juba. Don't you think you 
 ought to be whipped now V 
 
 " Sartin I ought. But now, Master, would you jis 
 please to switch me yourse'f— jis dis once, Master." 
 
 " No, Juba ; go, ask the overseer to come here." 
 
 He obeyed and soon returned with the overseer, a 
 man not so tall as Juba, but of stout, athletic frame. 
 
 "Mr. Iliggs," said the colonel, "Juba confesses 
 that he deserves to be punished and I wish him to 
 know that you have my special authority and request 
 to punish him now. Please attend to his case when 
 you have time." 
 
 "Now, Master, please whip me yourse'f, do; I'll 
 fetch de switches." 
 
 Juba ran away toward a wood and the colonel sup- 
 posed he was taking to the bush again. But he was 
 soon seen returning with an honest bundle of 
 switches in his hand. While he was absent, the ovei*- 
 seer said ; 
 
 " Colonel Fairfax, it seems useless to whip Juba. 
 lie is a strange fellow. I have had a great deal of 
 trouble ^♦ith him, and have tried every way I could 
 think of to manage him. He is a capital hand to 
 work when he is in the humor, but he pays no 
 respect to my authority. He is very proud of his 
 strength, and sometimes looks at me as if he was 
 thinking that he is a better man than I am. One 
 more plan to bring him to subjection has occurred to 
 me, and, if you have no objection, I will try it on 
 him." 
 
 " What is it 1" 
 
 " For me to fight him on equal terms and whip 
 him. That will take the conceit out of him and make 
 him respect me." 
 
20 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " That will never do, Mr. Iliggs." 
 
 " I believe nothing else will do with Juba.'* 
 
 "If there were no other objection, he might beat 
 you." 
 
 " Then you will have to get another overseer. I am 
 willing to take the risk, if you consent. I was once 
 active and had some skill at boxing. I am older now 
 and out of practice. But 1*11 risk it." 
 
 The colonel shook his head doubtfully at this novel 
 proposition, but Juba came up and he merely said, 
 " go with the overseer " as he rode away. 
 
 " Now, Juba," said Higgs, " lay down the switches. 
 You will need your fists. You must figlit me. I 
 give you a white man's chance. It's a lair fight." 
 
 " Far fi^ht '? White man's chance 1 Soi'e enousjh *?" 
 
 "Yes, that's what I say." 
 
 "Whoop I" shouted Juba so loud that he Avas 
 heard by some of his fellow-servants in a neighbor- 
 ing field, and, leaning on their hoes, they became 
 epectators of the scene. 
 
 " Get ready, Juba." 
 
 " I's always ready for a far fight." 
 
 " Come on, then." 
 
 Juba was not slow to act upon tins hint. lie made 
 a lunge with his great maul of a fist a* the overseer's 
 face, and would have flattened his features if the blow 
 had not been dexterously parried. Juba opened his 
 eyes with wonder to see that so much force had done 
 no mischief. He repeated the efibrt several times 
 with little variation and with no better success. Then 
 the overseer in turn began to plant his blows. He 
 struck Juba on the head — his least vulnerable part — 
 and Juba fell flat on the grass. He rose and came to 
 the scratch again, but almost instantly he measui-ed 
 
ROEBUCK. 21 
 
 Ins length upon the ground. He took a third fall, but 
 then, Avhen he rose, he turned his back upon his 
 adversary and took to his heels. He did not stop 
 until he joined the laborers in the adjoining field. 
 He there seized a hoe and went to work without 
 saying a word. After a long time he looked round 
 and said with a rueful grin : i 
 
 " Dat ain't such a mean overseer after all ; I reckon 
 Eis folks is pretty decent for poor white folks." 
 
 In the meantime Colonel Fairfax passed into a field 
 where a dozen slaves were at work under the lead of 
 one of their own class, who acted as headman of the 
 gang." He was a cotemporary of the colonel, and 
 they had played together, and sometimes fought too, 
 when they were boys. As he remained a boy all his 
 life, and would have protracted also the boyhood of 
 his master, he continued to call him " Master Fred." 
 His nose Avas like a pack-saddle. He was short, and 
 though not corpulent, his head, face, body and limbs 
 were all round, and his plump little figure might have 
 been rolled about like a ball. He was called Joe. 
 With the bland serenity of ancient and undisputed 
 authority, he led a bevy of sleek, well-fed negroes, 
 who whistled or sung at their labor, quite satisfied 
 with theu* prospective share of the products of the 
 plantation. When the colonel approached Joe, took 
 off his hat and saluted him with a grave bow, saying, 
 " your sarvant, Master Fred." 
 
 •' How goes it, Joe, and how do you get on with 
 the work to-day 1" 
 
 " Mighty well, sir ; de boys is workin* up lively to- 
 day, lively, Master Fred. But I bin thinkin', sir, 
 maybe you'd allow old Joe to 'spress his 'pinion on 
 dis 'ere corn-plantin' subjec'." 
 
22 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " Certainly, Joe, I would like to hear your 
 opinion." 
 
 '• Den, Master Fred, my 'pinion is dat dis 'e**e way 
 of 2)lantin' corn, what the overseer is gwine to make 
 us plant corn, is a new way, and it ain't the way the 
 Fail-faxes always planted corn, and my 'pinion is, sir, 
 we won't git no crap." 
 
 '* Then, Joe," replied his master, laughing, " you 
 think we ought to plant corn still just as the Fair- 
 faxes did when you were a chap ?" 
 
 "Well, my 'pinion is, Master Fred, dat a family as 
 old as ourn oughtn't to take up with these new ways 
 of the upstarts — no offence to the overseer, sir." 
 
 " The Fau'faxes," said the colonel, lauo^hinc: asrain, 
 " were always a very good family, Joe, since you and 
 I knew them, and in the ways of honor and duty we 
 cannot do better than follow their examples. But as 
 to planting, perhaps we may learn something by ex- 
 perience which they did not know. The fact is, this 
 new way is one of my own, Joe." 
 
 " Oh, dat's another thing. Master Fred. You's one 
 of the same old Fau-faxes yourse'f, and you has a 
 right to think for yourse'f and for your folks too. 
 I's got no 'pinion on dat subjec' cf it's your subjec', 
 
 BU\" 
 
 The colonel was about to ride away, when Joe sig- 
 nified by a respectful gesture that he had something 
 more to say. . 
 
 " What else, Joe ?" he asked. 1 
 
 " One of my gang — it's roundhead Bill — says he's 
 got two childi'en over his patch. Master Fred, and he 
 wants, ef you please, to git his patch made up to liis 
 family." 
 
 "Is that so. Bill?" 
 
ROEBUCK. 23 
 
 " Yes, Master, I done got two 'sponsibilities since 
 you give clat patch, and I most 'spectin' another." 
 
 " Very Avell, Bill ; your patcli shall be enlarged to 
 fit your responsibilities." 
 
 " Thank you, Master," said roundhead Bill. 
 " Bill is a mighty good boy, Master Fred," added 
 Headman Joe ; " he's worth twelve hundred dollars 
 dis blessed day ; dat is, ef you was a gentleman would 
 sell a sarvant while he behaves hese'f." 
 
 AYhen he had moved away, the colonel saw a 
 young lady riding at a canter across the fields 
 towards him on a white horse of high spirit and 
 beautiful form. She was followed by a gentleman 
 who, in turn, was followed by a servant. " There," 
 said the colonel to himself, '• comes Julia, worrying 
 lier Uncle Dick with a gallop over plowed ground." 
 He gazed at her with affectionate pride, and his 
 cheerful face beamed with a smile. " What are you 
 after, brother Dick?" he exclaimed, as they drew 
 near. 
 
 *' After Colonel Julia, of course. She would make 
 a cavalry raid on the village this morning, and I had 
 to follow my colonel." 
 
 It was one of his whims to call her colonel, as the 
 destined heir of an estate which shoaild always have 
 a Colonel Frederick for its proprietor, according to 
 the customary law of descent in the lamily. In de- 
 fault -of a Colonel Frederick, he dubbed the niece 
 wiiom he admired and ioved, "Colonel Julia." 
 
 "= Papa," she said, " your big brother and I have 
 come to take you home. We think yo-u have done 
 work eiiougli while we were at play. Uncle Dick 
 says he inleuds to preach up a new abolition society 
 for thu emancipation of masters." 
 
24 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " Certainly," the doctor added, " the masters are 
 C the real objects of compassion in this peculiar institu- 
 tion of oui's. My heart bleeds for them. Behold me, 
 an apostle of emancipation, and be the first of the 
 wretches I am to rescue." 
 
 \ "What, brother Dick," said the colonel, "liave 
 '' you done with your old theory that the negroes have 
 the natural right to be slaves and therefore to liave i 
 masters, servitude being necessary, as you have often 
 affirmed, for their prcb'-ervation and happiness accord- 
 ing to the constitution of natm-e ?" 
 
 '" I have thrown up the constitution of nature and 
 taken to ab<?litionist tracts. But I improve on the 
 plan of the abolitionists. I am convinced that the 
 emancipation of masters is the shortest way to the 
 grand result." 
 
 "Pray, what is to be this grand result?" 
 
 "The extinction of the negro race on this con- 
 tinent." 
 
 " That is desu-able, is it ?" said the colonel, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 " Root out the blacks and you know we shall have 
 a more intelligent and profitable set of laborers." 
 
 " But humanity, my big brother I" 
 
 " Nonsense, my little brother I Humanity was in 
 last year's almanac. It is out of date. Abolition 
 takes its place this year. Free the negroes 1 Perish 
 mankind! Come, Julia, you shall turn lecturer. 
 What will a humanitarian society — humanitarian. 
 mai-k you, not humane — be worth unless it turns the 
 world topsy-turvy and makes women periorm the 
 functions of men V 
 
 " Will you emancipate me without my wife ?" 
 asked the Colonel. " She is a greater slave to our 
 
ROEBUCK. 25 
 
 clepemdents than I am. See, tliere she goes now to 
 that cabin, probably to look after a sick child or to 
 render some other service to her numerous family." 
 
 " Xo ; it is useless to offer freedom to women. 
 They all rush into matrimony, the most galling kind 
 of bondage. Let them alone." 
 
 " Begone, you heathen," said Julia, flourishing her 
 ridinoc-s witch. 
 
 *' Yes, I am a heathen and a republican — I confess 
 all my sins at once. Ostentatious confession is a trick 
 of the Pharisees whom I am going to imitate. It is 
 a proclamation of humility — a proud virtue." 
 
 " Ah, brother Dick, you jest, but these negroes are 
 the poor whom we have always with us." 
 
 " Unless they run away." 
 
 " T\^ell, if they run away from their homes we must 
 pity their folly. And here comes Dainty Dave. 
 What place will there be for him in your new 
 scheme V* 
 
 " A fellow you have ruined and made a fool of by 
 discharging him from all labor because once upon a 
 time " 
 
 " He saved my dear daughter's life by an act of 
 devoted courage when our old house was burnt." 
 
 " Be it so. Plere he comes riding his fat mule and 
 dressed fantastically, as usual. Where are you going, 
 Dave ?" 
 
 Before answering Dave lifted his high-crowned 
 hat from his head and three times bowed profoundly 
 over the mule's neck, saying, " sarvant, Master ; sar- 
 vant, Miss Julia ; sarvant. Master Dick." Straighten- 
 ing himself up, he gravely added : " I'm gwine to be 
 waxinated, sir." 
 
 " Vaccinated ? Are you afraid of taking small- 
 pox t" ^ 
 
26 ROEBUCK. 
 
 "No, Master Dick, but dei'e is a clirty nij^ger on 
 dis plantation wat's got de itch. I reckon, ef de 
 small-pox is de killingest 'stemper of dera two, w'at 
 will keep off dp small-pox will keep off de itch." 
 
 " You draw conclusions, Dave, with the force of a 
 a mule. You ought to be a doctor." 
 
 " Same as you, Master Dick ?" said Dave with an 
 impudent leer in his eyes, sheltered by the projecting 
 gravity of his lips. The doctor rode at him with a 
 threatening gesture and Dave rapidly receded IVoin 
 the scene. 
 
 "Yes, Julia," said the doctor, "there's your own 
 maid, Grace, you make a fool of her too with your 
 •indulgence and your presents and finery and all that." 
 
 "But, Uncle Dick, she loves me so truly and then 
 we were play-mates in childhood, you know. She is 
 really a good girl and altogether devoted to me." 
 
 " Fudge ! She will run away the first time she ha^ 
 a chance — for that I'll v/ager my horse against your 
 switch." 
 
 " Never, Uncle Dick." 
 
 "You will find there is a great deal of human 
 nature in these negroes when they are free to show 
 it." 
 
 "TVTiat do you think of that, Caleb?" said Julia, 
 turning towards the servant who followed Doctor 
 Fairfax, and who now sat in stately lashion on liis 
 horse near them. He was di'essed quite foppishly, 
 though his master was rather slovenly. Caleb pro- 
 nounced his opinion. 
 
 " Miss Julia, when extremes meet, the ebullition of 
 human nature explodes in a cataclasm of tlie ele- 
 ments." 
 
 " There, now," exclaimed the doctor, " Caleb gives 
 opinions tl^at cannot be refuted, because they cannot 
 
ROEBUCK. 27 
 
 be understood. There is matter in his words, no 
 doubt, if we had the Avit to find it. There is a fellow, 
 Colonel Ju'lia, who has served rao, man and boy, more 
 than forty years, and in all that time he has not ut- 
 tered an intelligible sentence or failed of a single 
 duty. lie is the best servant I ever saw." 
 
 Caleb, accepting the praise as customary and due, 
 replied to the doctor. 
 
 " Master, if you would investigate the collateral in- 
 heritance of my signification, you would see that 
 virtue is the better half of wisdom." 
 
 " Why, where did you filch that apothegm ? I did 
 not know that I ever entertained a sewtentious philo- 
 sopher, though gentlemen do sit at my table some- 
 times who supply you with sesquipedalian phrases. 
 NoW) Julia, there is a long word that he will lug in 
 the next time he discourses to the servants." 
 
 " Pardon, Master, I never talk the high English to 
 the niggers. Their craniums is so transfigured by 
 the burnished livery of the burning sun that they 
 cannot prefigure the sentiments." 
 
 " Come away, Julia ; we shall need an ark to save 
 us from a deluge of words if we remain here." 
 
 " Will you go with us, papa ?" 
 
 " Not yet ; I will follow you in a short time." 
 
 " Remember, brother Fred 1 Ko more talk of hu- 
 manity in relation to your betters. The negro is not 
 only a man and a brother, but the elder brother of 
 the human fiimily. I am sure," he muttered as he 
 rode ofi; " nature learned on the negro, before she 
 made the white man, and a black botch she made of 
 her first experiment — a mere mud-pie." 
 
 " Come, Arab," said Julia, touching her horse, and 
 he galloped away, Doctor Dick following at his 
 heels. 
 
28 ROEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 VISITORS AT ROEBUCK. 
 
 Fro:m tlie country road or highway a broad avenno 
 half a mile in length led up to a gate below the bluff 
 in front of the mansion of Roebuck. On cacli 
 side of the avenue was a row of lorabardy poplars — 
 tall pointed, steeple-like trees, but already stricken at 
 top with that early decay which afflicts those aspiring 
 favorites of the last generation. When Julia touched 
 Arab with her switch two young gentlemen were 
 meeting at the entrance of the avenue. 
 
 " Good morning, ?>Ir. Palmer." 
 
 ^' Good morning, Mr. Fitzhugh." 
 
 At the same moment tliey turned the heads of their 
 horses and rode together between the poplars. At 
 first they talked of the weather, then* horses and other 
 trite or trivial matters, and, while their conversation 
 is unimportant, there will be time to describe them. 
 
 They were about the same age, of twenty-six or 
 seven, and were both handsome and tall ; but Fitz- 
 hugh was not quite as tall as his companion ; the for- 
 mer had dark hair, eyes and complexion, and those of 
 the latter were light. The di-ess of Palmer was fash- 
 ionable and precise ; that of Fitzhugh genteel but 
 iieo-lio-ent. As horsemanship is the passion of all 
 classes in Virginia, but especially of gentlemen, they 
 were both Avell mounted. The horse of the dark- 
 haired rider was black, of moderate size and evidently 
 
y ROEBUCK. 29 
 
 of fine blood, Tvliile he of the f;iir complexion rode a 
 stouter animal of chesmit color. Palmer's features 
 were exactly regular and without an apparent blemish, 
 except that his ligiit blue eyes displayed rather too 
 much white. They expressed no decided character, 
 and even the doubtful negation of expression might 
 signify either apathy or prudence, and his face might 
 be a mask or a mirror. That of Fitzhugh Avas less 
 regular and more flexible in feature and it was more 
 responsive to mind and heart. Its habitual expres- 
 sion was one of dreamy idleness. But it caught the 
 change of every j^assing influence so readily that a 
 stranger might have suspected his character of levity 
 if another nature more profound had not been indi- 
 cated by the breadth of his forehead, the depth of the 
 eyes and the firm lines of the mouth. 
 
 " There goes Miss Fairfax towards the house," said 
 Palmer. 
 
 " And her uncle with her," added Fitzhugh. 
 
 '• But he shall not assist her to alight. I intend to 
 perform that service myself" 
 
 " If you are at the house before me, you may." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " Show him your heels. Sultan," said Fitzhugh, and, 
 at a touch of the cane, his horse bounded away. 
 Palmer also, humoring the banter, put spurs to the 
 chestnut. If they vvere seen at all by Julia and her 
 uncle, they were soon out of sight as they approached 
 the bluff. For a short race there was not much differ- 
 ence in speed between the horses, but the black held 
 the start he had taken. Ar. no person was seen at the 
 gate, it appeared that the necessity of stopping to 
 open it would end the race and set the riders even. 
 But from each side of the gate ran a stone wall or 
 
80 ROEBUCK. 
 
 fence, about four feet high. Fitzhugh, swerving his 
 horse from tlie middle of the ro<id to the sward at the 
 side, came up to the fence and Sultan cleared it at a 
 leap. Palmer declined to follow, and his companion 
 halting, turned and waved his hand with a good- 
 humored laugh. He waited for Palmer to pass 
 through the gate and then they rode together up the 
 bluff. Miss Fairfax had already dismounted and was 
 not to be seen. The gentlemen, giving their bridles 
 to a servant, entered the house. They had not sat 
 long when the young lady made her appearance. 
 
 For some minutes the cost of the conversation was 
 defrayed almost exclusively by herself The thoughts 
 of her visitors were so engrossed with admiration of 
 her beauty that they talk&d but little. They had often 
 seen her before. Fitzhugh had known her from her 
 infancy. His fimily and hers had long been neigh- 
 bors and intimate friends. The acquaintance between 
 her and Palmer was of some years' standing, though 
 it was little more than fomial. Neither of the gen- 
 tlemen professed a warmer feeling for her than friend- 
 ship ; but, in her presence, they felt the fiscination of 
 a kind of beauty always new and surprising. At 
 length they found their tongues and for half an hour the 
 conversation flowed fluently enough. They talked of 
 neighborhood news, recent pubiicatlons, new music 
 and a variety of other topics of transient interest. 
 Julia had the pleasing taleiit of her sex, and her con- 
 versation, like her dress and manners, had the unobtru- 
 sive charm of simple elegance. Kot from any parade 
 of learning ar accomplishments could it be discovered 
 that her education had been as complete as wealth 
 could procure for her. She had received also that 
 better education which girls acquired in those happy 
 
ROEBUCK. 31 
 
 homes in Virginia (happy now no more I) where gen- 
 tle manners were framed to modesty and pnrity, and 
 where chanlcters were attempered to the duties of 
 life. Palmer, in conversation, was sensible but for- 
 mal. It was ap])arent that his moderate faculties had 
 been carefully cultivated in schools. He was versed- 
 in the fashions and affected the manners of cities. 
 Ilis imagination was dull and he lacked the versatile 
 and various ease of an agreeable t:ilker. In that re- 
 spect he was excelled by Fitzhugh when he was in 
 his lighter mood and v/as excited by congenial com- 
 pany. 
 
 Julia, being requested to sing, sat at the piano and 
 sung an Italian song with brilliant operatic music, at 
 the desire of Palmer, whosfe musical taste had re- 
 ceived as elaborate culture as his intellect ; and tlien 
 she sung an English b!^'lad to gratify Fitzhugh, who 
 was aii^ enthusiastic lover of melody, but without 
 much musical science. Her skill satisfied the judg- 
 ment of the.critic, and her sweet voice thrilled the" 
 nerves of the enthusiast. One of the gentlemen then 
 requested her to sing something of lier own selection. 
 *' Then hearken," she said, " for I am going to sing 
 you a song with a moral — a homely little song that 
 was sent to me the other day." Whether she took 
 it up by accident, or chose to amuse herself with the 
 part of a playful moralist, or was influenced by some 
 thought of Fitzhugh, who was settling into an atti- 
 tude^of indolent dreaming, may have been uncertaiu 
 to herself She esteemed Hugh- Fitzhugh very 
 highly, and treated him with as much familiarity as 
 life-long friendship might warrant between young 
 persons^of diiferent sexes. She shared the regret ot 
 his friends that, after leaving the University with a 
 
82 ROEBUCK. 
 
 brilliant reputation, and traveling in Europe a year 
 or two, he seemed to have given himself up to list- 
 less idlei>«ess. Not even the estate which he inherited, 
 and on which he resided wkh his widowed motiier, 
 appeared to engage his serious attention. Julia often 
 heard her father express a fear that the bright pro- 
 mise whith his young friend Hugh had given would 
 be disappointed through mere indolence and a love 
 of idle pleasures. Vrhother she remembered this or 
 not at the moment, she sung her song " with a 
 moral " — 
 
 THE SONG OF TPIE BEE. 
 
 In sipping sweets and kissing flowers 
 
 The nimble-wingeJ bee 
 From morn till night beguiles the liours — • 
 
 And who so blithe as he? 
 O, might we pass this life of ours 
 
 As gaily as the bee ! 
 
 From every flower, with every kiss, 
 A treasure sucks the bes, 
 
 Kor wastes an hour in idle bhss — 
 And wha so rich as he? 
 
 Thy roaming revels come to this — 
 " To fill tliy hive, O bee. 
 
 So love and soag, and all delighta 
 
 Taut cL-ar ihe sp'.rlt free, 
 
 May sweeten toilso.ne days and nigiits 
 That store the hive for thee; 
 
 But life ]& naught if pleasure blighta 
 Its fruit — for man or bee. 
 
ROEBUCK. 33 
 
 *'That song, I am sure, was sung for mo," re- 
 marked Fitzhugh. 
 
 ''Does it please you?" asked Miss Fairfax. 
 
 *' The moral, not the music, was meant ft^r me." 
 
 "Do you suspect me, then, of preaching to you or 
 at you 1" 
 
 *' Perhaps it may turn out a song, 
 Perhaps turn out a sermon." 
 
 " And why do you take it as a sermon rather than 
 as a song?" 
 
 " I will think of it," he said, musingly. 
 
 *' Do, Mr. Fitzhugh," she replied, in a tone which 
 seemed at once to apologize for the candor of her 
 sermon, and to insinuate an interest in his career. 
 
 " I wish so fair a preacher would level a sermon at 
 me," said Alfred Palmer. 
 
 " If I am suspected of such presumption I must 
 never transs^ress ao-ain, Mr. Palmer. But here comes 
 papa — and Uncle Dick with him, too. Between 
 them they shall teach you all wisdom, whether the 
 amiable or the satirical." 
 
 Colonel Fairfjxx met the young gentlemen with a 
 hearty greeting, and the doctor said, " Brother Fred 
 and I have just had a pretty quarrel about the com- 
 parative merits of your horses, gentlemen ; take caro 
 that we don't finish it over you." 
 
 " You must not call it a quarrel," said the colonel. 
 
 " Well, a discussion — the milder synonym." 
 
 " I would like to show the gentlemen a horse of 
 mine ;" and the colonel was about to dilate upon 
 horseflesh, for it was one of his vanities, and the 
 number of fine horses on the plantation formed one 
 
 2* 
 
3-i ROEBUCK. 
 
 exception to the jucticious economy of his manficre- 
 ment. But he checked himself, and, gliding with 
 easy urbanity to a more appropriate subject, he led 
 the way in an animated conversation, to which all 
 present contributed. Julia, who always showed most 
 vivacity in the presence of her amiable and cheerful 
 father, talked with sparkling gaiety ; the guests imi- 
 tated her vivacity, and Doctor Dick let off some 
 squibs at intervals. Colonel Fairfax was fond of the 
 society of young people, aud they enjoyed his frank, 
 entertaining and intelligent conversation. The young 
 men of his acquaintance loved him, and admu-ed his 
 character. Hugh Fitzhugh had been accustomed 
 from boyhood to look upon him as his best friend, 
 almost as a guardian. His mother, left a widow with 
 no other child when Hugh was very young, was his 
 legal guardian, but Colonel Fairfax was her constant 
 adviser. Albert Palmer was born in Kew England, 
 and, though he had lived a great part of his life in 
 Virginia, had no intimate acquaintance with the fam- 
 ily at Roebuck. 
 
 At length the current of conversation was interrupt- 
 ed by Doctor Fairfax, who remarked abruptly, " that 
 is a Yankee horse you ride, Mr. Palmer — a Yankee 
 Morgan." 
 
 "You would not imply," said Julia, "that he is 
 the worse for a Korthern origin, Uncle Dick." 
 
 '• By no means ; I like the Yankee-bred Morgans." 
 
 But the irritation of sectional controversy had made 
 men sensitive to every comparison between the Xorth 
 and the South, and the most inoflensive allusions 
 would sometimes rub the raw and provoke resent- 
 ment. Palmer had certain reasons for being more 
 sensitive than others when he suspected that a slight 
 
R 0-E BUCK. 85 
 
 was cast upon Ids IsTorthern birth, and the abrupt 
 manner of the doctor, which startled even Julia, had 
 irritated him. He said with asperity : " you are mis- 
 taken, sir. I am a true Southerner. I use nothing 
 from Yankcedom that I can obtain in the South.. In 
 fact," he added with a rising voice, " I despise the 
 Yankees." 
 
 There was silence, for all present were shocked and 
 embarrassed. Virginians cherish the love of native- 
 land with romantic fidelity. Tliey could tolerate in a 
 stra/iger the utmost devotion to the country of liis 
 bii'th, though it might be the country they most dis- 
 liked. They could not comprehend the contempt 
 expressed by Palmer for the land of his nativity and 
 the people of his blood. After an awkward pause the 
 doctor, who delighted to abuse the " Yankees," broke 
 the silence. 
 
 " Well, since the Yankees have no friends here, I 
 will air my opinions of tliem." 
 
 " Come, Uncle Dick, be charitable. We know you 
 keep the North as a woman keej^s a pin-cushion, to 
 Btick pins in." 
 
 ''' Acer tetigisti. Colonel Julia, which, being inter- 
 preted, signifies that you are as sharp as one of your 
 needles this morning. But I'll balk your penetration 
 this time. I shall use none but a blunt instrument — 
 a mere maul. I shall simply take the liberty of saying 
 tliat the Yankees are the meanest, the most aiToo-ant 
 the most hypocritical, the most meddlesome and the 
 i^ost coiTupt branch of the human family — if I must 
 acknowledge them as men and brothers." 
 
 " O fie. Uncle Dick, they are a religious people." 
 
 " Then- rehgion is fox-fire, a superficial light from 
 rottenness — theu- morals a science of fraud. Their 
 
36 ROEBUCK. 
 
 credo is a long face on Sunday and a long purse on 
 week days. Their water of baptism is water of pe- 
 trifaction, turning their hearts lo stone. Look at 
 those three thousand preachers who petitioned Con- 
 gress recently — their petition was a howl of hato 
 a-^ainst the South. Wiien they stretch out their holy 
 hands over this half of the country, theii* benedictions 
 are bans and their very halleluiah is a doxology of 
 devils. They have almost canonized the bones of old 
 John Brown, a robber and assassin, because they were 
 Southern women and children whom he would have 
 incited negroes to murder in their beds. Like priests, 
 like people. The better class of preachers at the 
 North ai'e ransacking the Apocalypse to prove that 
 the end of the world is at hand, and they confirm 
 their predictions by citing the unparalleled depravity 
 of mankind — a depravity which they actually see at 
 then* own doors, though it is not seen in the South." 
 
 "But, brother Dick," interrupted the colonel, 
 "those are only then* fanatics whom you describe." 
 
 " They di'own the voices of all others. And then 
 Yankee politics — a corrupt despotism of demagogue^ 
 — professing but one principle, the rule of a majority, 
 and practicing but one, public plunder. Fanaticism, 
 however, will soon dominate politics. Already most 
 of the religious societies there are political clubs. 
 Priests are sure to be the tyrants of a land where 
 pure religion does not prevail." 
 
 "The spirit of caricatm-e runs away with my big 
 brother to-day," said Colonel Faufax, laughing. 
 
 " Caiicatm-e ! What I say is as true as daguerreo- 
 t}^e." 
 
 " And not more life-like, I dare say, Uncle Dick." 
 
 *' Julia, a good girl like you cannot imagine such 
 
ROEBUCK. 37 
 
 evils as polute Northern society. Their cities are 
 sinks, their towns ape their cities and they poison the 
 country. They abound with liauuts where men have 
 exerted their ingenuity in perfecting vice as they have 
 elsewhere in improving machinery. What is their 
 pociety — what must it be from its structure, even 
 aside from religion and politics? A confused popu- 
 lace struggling for wealth or life — a perpetual prize- 
 fight, with millions in the ring— a mob without gen- 
 tlemen " 
 
 " Hold, there, brother Dick, you won t say there 
 are no gentlemen in the North," cried the colonel, 
 laughing at the doctor's notions. 
 
 "Gentlemen — yes, many of them, as there are 
 many good Christians. But there is no class of gen- 
 try with a recognized position and influence. Here, 
 you know, the gentry, rich and poor, without the 
 support of unequal laws, exert a direct and legitimate 
 influence upon the movements of society with the 
 open approbation of the people, and with open re- 
 sponsibility, under the correction of public opinion. 
 There, gentry is ostracised. Wealth, everywhere a 
 power, rules there by indirection and corruption. It 
 buys the press. It subsidizes the pulpit. It bribes 
 the demagogues. It corrupts all leaders of the pub- 
 lic. When fanaticism is quiet, the force that rules 
 the Yankees is money and a mob. In fact, there can 
 be no gentry, where nothing is stable, and gold is 
 the standard of all worth. Gentry is the peculiar 
 flower of an old agricultural community, where nature 
 shines on agriculture. How" 
 
 " Pardon me, Uncle Dick, you are making a 
 speech." 
 
 " Heaven forefend, Colonel Julia ; if I get to 
 
38 ROEBUCK. 
 
 speoch-malvin Of, I j;hall become as crreat a bore as a 
 Yankee professor, a superficial coxcomb who lectui'es 
 always, about everything and — nothinij^." 
 
 '' Breathe a while, Uncle Dick. Papa, I have not 
 told yon th ;: I saw Mr. Ambler this morning, and 
 invited him to dine with us to-d^y. The carriage 
 has been "^ t for him, and he should be here soon." 
 
 " I a,m glad of it, daughter. Our venerable pastor 
 is always a welcome guest. You must remain and 
 dine with him, gentlemen. Do not refuse. You 
 know the good old clergyman, and you must enjoy 
 his society." 
 
 Fitzhugh accepted the invitation, but Palmer, with 
 a polite apology, declined it, and took his leave. 
 When the conversation was resumed, Fitzhugh 
 said — 
 
 *' It gratifies me to infer. Doctor Fairfax, that you 
 think the time has an-ived when we should dissolve 
 our political connection with the North." 
 
 ' What ! follow South Cai^olina in secession V* 
 
 '' Certainly." 
 
 "No." 
 
 - No ?" 
 
 "Never." 
 
 " You amaze me. Would you prolong our asso- 
 ciation with such communities as you have just de- 
 picted 7" 
 
 " I have not read in any book of surgery that to 
 cut off the head is a safe cure for tooth-ache." 
 
 " Do you think, theft, that to cut ofiT the North is 
 to cut off the head of the South V 
 
 " No ; you are too literal in spelling a metaphor. 
 Beit secession will be fatal to the Southern States. 
 The North will subjugate them, and then where will 
 be youi- remedy V 
 
ROEBUCK. 39 
 
 " How can such a people, figliiing for independ- 
 ence, be cojiquered ? They would be exterminated 
 first. See how theh' patriotic zeal already burns with 
 martial fire. Many men pant for war with the 
 North." 
 
 " I have heard such men talk. They will serve as 
 light-wood to kindle a revolution, but we shall need 
 more durable fuel to keep it up. The bviith is not 
 fanatical, or malignant, or corrupt like the North, but, 
 Avhat is worse in view of such a conflict, it is weak. 
 It is weak just where many imagine it is strong. 
 Besides the obvious disparity of numbers and mate- 
 rial between the North and South, consider that you 
 would link Virginia with States that must fixil her 
 in a long and exhaustive war. One of them h^s a 
 gentry and no people ; another, a people and no gen- 
 try, and a third, neither people nor gentry — neither 
 body nor spirit. Tiie very vices of the Yankees will 
 contribute to their cruel success in such an enter- 
 prise as the conquest and plunder of the South. 
 Think you I would provoke a horde of Northern bar- 
 barians to overrun Virginia with fire and sv/ord V 
 
 " Shall we, then, submit to oppression through 
 fear? The Northern States, as you have described 
 them, are unfit associates of a Commonwealth like 
 Virginia. They have repeatedly nullified the laws, 
 and broken the Federal compact in points essential 
 to our security. By a perversion of constitutional 
 forms they have seized the common government with 
 an avowed design of wre^ing its tremendous powers 
 to their aggrandizement and our oppression. The 
 wrongs they have perpetrated would justify war — 
 much more simple separation. The danger that we 
 shall lose all the rights of our States if we acquiesce 
 
40 ROEBUCK. 
 
 in their aggressions is manifest and imminent. There 
 appears to be no way of escape from it, but by seces- 
 sion. The riglit of secession is clear. The right of 
 self-government is inalienable. By seceding, Ave 
 shall give no just cause of war. I hope war will not 
 come. If it should come, I believe the South will 
 not be conquered. But, whatever maybe the pos- 
 sible event, it is better in such a cause to invoke the 
 justice of the God of Battles, than tamely to await 
 our inevitable doom in the Union." 
 
 Fitzhugh had risen, and while he spoke his eyes 
 beamed with enthusiasm, and his rich, mellow voice, 
 swelled into a tone ratlier too oratorical for private 
 conversation. Suddenly becoming conscious of this, 
 he paused and turning to JuUa said — " pardon me, 
 Lliss Julia, I am making a speech." 
 
 " It is easy to pardon the warm expression of patri- 
 otic feeling," she replied. 
 
 " Ah, Hugh," observed Colonel Fairfax, " you agi- 
 tate a perilous question, that requires for its solution 
 eminent wisdom and sobriety of judgment. A young 
 gentleman of your spkit and principles naturally 
 feels indignant at the wrongs and insults which om- 
 States have suffered from a portion of the Xorthern 
 people, and alarmed at the danger Avhich threatens us 
 from that quarter. The amusing caricatures of 
 Northern society which have been sketched by my 
 brother are not without a partial resemblance to truth. 
 I do not doubt the right of secession, and I regard it 
 as the only effectual check upon the Federal govern- 
 ment whenever it shall become — as all governments 
 are liable to become — dangerous to liberty. But this 
 is not our whole case. Is it necessary or wise to 
 secede now ? Will secession cure the ills we suffer or 
 
ROEBUCK 41 
 
 avert the dangers we fear ? Is there no remedy within 
 the Union ? Sliall we relinquish all the advantages of 
 the Union without further efforts to preserve it while 
 saving also our rights, honor and security ? The Union 
 is very dear to me. I have been taught to love it from 
 my cradle upward. As Virginians, we should cherish 
 it as especially the work of our fathers and the monu- 
 ment of their glory. Secession may not bring war 
 but war is probable. Subjugation may follow with 
 its train of indescribable horrors. War at best — civil 
 war above all — is terrible. Let us not be rash. Let 
 us confide a little longer in the returning reason of 
 our Northern brethren. Let us look and wait for 
 some milder remedy than secession. Let us, if pos- 
 sible, preserve this great country entire and not afflict 
 mankind with the destruction of our Union." 
 
 " Ought Virginia, then," inquired Hugh Fitzhugh, 
 '' from timidity or sentimental recollections to lag 
 behind her sister States in the assertion of riorht — in 
 a contest for independence and freedom V 
 
 " Prudence, my dear sir, is not dishonorable ; 
 neither is reluctance to abandon a system which has 
 produced vast benefits. I have no fear that our ven- 
 erable Commonwealth will ever be dishonored by any 
 act of her own. If she should — as I trust she may — 
 restore to the Union the seven States which have 
 seceded, and, at the same time, secure the rights of 
 aU for the future, tliat will be a work worthy of her 
 ancient renown." 
 
 " But will the fierce passions of the North permit it 
 to be done '?" 
 
 " Forbearance, statesmanship, and patient, persever- 
 ing effort must prove whether it is possible. At all 
 events, I shudder at the thought of breaking up the 
 
42 R E B I' C 5 . 
 
 Union until every lionorable experiment for its pre- 
 servation has been tried in vain." 
 
 " But su])pose, Colonel Fairfax, that while Vircfinia 
 is endeavoring to restore the integrity of the Union, 
 the Federal government should attempt to reduce the 
 seceding States to obedience by force ?" 
 
 " Then we must fight. An attempt to subjugate 
 those States by arms after what has happened Avill 
 annul all claims of the Federal government upon the 
 support of any Virginian or any friend of Republican 
 liberty. Liberty cannot survive a triumph of Fede- 
 ral force in such a contest. No State can be ueutral 
 If the North constrains Virginia to fight for or against 
 the South, she must fight for the South at eveiy haz- 
 ard. Then secession will become a secondary ques- 
 tion. War will be the first. We cannot aid in the 
 subjagatlon of our sister States." 
 
II O E B U CMC . 48 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TABLE-TALK AT ROEBUCK. 
 
 TiiR carriage returned, bringing the Rev. Charles 
 Ambler. He was nearly fourscore years of age. His 
 hair was white and his appearance venerable, but his 
 form was erect and his step firm. His keen grey 
 eyes, dimmed but not bleared by age, his aquiline 
 nose and his square chin expressed decision of char- 
 acter, and saved his mild demeanor from a. charge of 
 apathetic dullness. In early life he was a successful 
 lawyer. Then he served as a captain of volunteers in 
 the last war with England. Afterwards, from con- 
 scientious motives, he became a student of divinity, 
 and, in due time, a minister of the gospel. For more 
 than forty years his life as a clergyman was one of 
 apostolic poverty, of active usefulness and modest 
 godliness. He shunned the sanctimonious alTecta- 
 tions by which some preachers advertise themselves 
 as ready-made saints. His goodness became known 
 by its fruits. 
 
 Soon after he had been received w^ith respectful 
 salutation by Colonel Fairfax, and the other persons 
 present had exchanged greetings with him, Mrs. 
 Fairfax joined the company. After expressing to 
 the clergyman her pleasure at his visit, she said— - 
 *• Julia tells me that you would hardly leave your war- 
 den to dine with us." 
 
 " I confess, my dear madam," he replied, " I was 
 
44 ROEBUCK. 
 
 inclined to linger amoncr my plants and Ho-wor-beda 
 this tine spring day it' I could have resisted the fair 
 Julia. But, you know, from the beginning the 
 ■woman has had a knack of turning the man out of 
 the garden." 
 
 " When I tempted you with mamma's dinner," strld 
 Julia, " I felt sure that you were well acquainted with 
 the wu/ back to Paradise." 
 
 " I see," said the doctor, " it is now as it was of 
 old — the man lays the blame on the woman." 
 
 "And the story runs," replied Mr. Ambler, laugh- 
 ing, " that you, doctor, are more impartial, and lay 
 blame on everybody." 
 
 "My big brother was fairly hit then," said the 
 colonel. 
 
 " What I Have I the character of a common 
 scold '? I will reform forthvrith, under the rebuke of 
 my pastor." 
 
 "Xay, brother Dick," said Mrs. Fairfax, "that 
 character is one Avhich your gallant sex as.signs to 
 ours exclusively." 
 
 '• But that, I maintain, is a slander," cried Hugh 
 Fitzhugh. 
 
 " You shall be the favored champion of dames and 
 damsels," said Julia. 
 
 " When I have learned the lesson of the bee V* 
 " Forgive me ; I did not think the bee could leave 
 a sting. I see to-day that you anticipate stirring 
 times, and your soul is already stirred." 
 
 " I would not be idle when my native Sl:ate ia in 
 danger." 
 
 After some further conversation dinner was an- 
 nounced. The good cheer and generous hospitality 
 of Virginians are proverbial. Of course, they were 
 
ROEBUCK. 45 
 
 not dishonored by the Fairfaxes of Roebuck. The 
 table exliibited the tempting abundance common 
 to the country, and a costly elegance peculiar to the 
 rich. Colonel Fairfax was an observer of all gene- 
 rous usages, and considered the honor of his family 
 engaged to excel in hospitality. He valued the sil- 
 ver upon his table chiefly because the gi-eater part of 
 it had been upon the tables of his ancestors. He was 
 himself temperate in all things, but he dined with a 
 healthy appetite, stimulated by active employment, 
 and he took his wine, not exclusively for the 
 stomach's sake, but to make glad the heart. So far 
 was he from moroseness, that he thought pleasure to 
 be the playmate of virtue, though excess is the hand- 
 maid of vice. 
 
 When the viands ceased to hold the tirst place in 
 the attention of the company, and conversation be- 
 gan to. range, a remark of Mrs. Fairfax gave occasion 
 to some reflections of. Mr. Ambler upon the social 
 condition of Vu-ginia. " I believe," he said, " there 
 is not a happier or better community. Nature has 
 been bountiful to our people, but not prodigal ; re- 
 warding industry, but not dispensing with exertion ; 
 bestowing health, and requiring vigor. Fortunate 
 circumstances make agriculture our chief occupation, 
 but also render commerce and the arts profitable to 
 those who prefer them. There is wealth enough for 
 leisure to cultivate the higher faculties, and yet even 
 the rich among us are incited to lead active lives un- 
 der the open sky. Property is so diffused that the 
 scale is gradual from the richest to the poorest. Even 
 the poorest seldom turn beggars or thieves, for pov- 
 erty here is neither extreme nor hopeless. Content- 
 ment is almost universal Perhaps the pressure of 
 
U K O E B r C K . 
 
 necessity is scarcely sufficient to stimulate as rapid 
 improveiiicnt in useful arts as we might rationally 
 desire. 3Iorals are generally simple and pure. 
 Truth, honesty and mutual good-will — the main ele- 
 ments of morality — are Qreneraliy enforced by usage 
 and opinion. Even the blacks have been raised to a 
 degree of well-being and of virtue hitherto unknown 
 to theh' race. They really seem to be happier in their 
 way than their masters. Most of the -evils which ex- 
 ist appear to be common to mankind, while many of 
 our blessings are peculiar to Virginia." 
 
 "And yet," exclaimed the doctor, "the Yankees 
 are eager to subvert our social system and foist upon 
 us their superior civilization ! A sordid cizilization, 
 glittering with a thin surfnve of gold-leaf — having 
 circulating gold for its life-blood, a golden calf for its 
 God, and a material Xcav Jei'usalem witli pavements 
 literally golden for the heaven of its hope. A cizili- 
 zation in which men, with fierce and grasping compe- 
 tition, grovel and jostle each other as men do in the 
 gold-diggings. Every man in the North is let loose 
 against his neighbor to become victor or victim in a 
 struggle for life. Of course, all society becomes mer- 
 cenary, and honors, laws, verdicts, religion, everything 
 is on sale in the vast auction-mart. But because the 
 general scramble of sordid selfishness assists the teem- 
 ing fertility of a new continent to produce cities and 
 palaces, they vaunt their vicious civilization as the 
 final product of consummate wisdom." 
 
 "■ Let us be cautious as well as candid, my dear doc- 
 tor," replied Mr. Ambler, '• in passing judgment 
 upon entire communities. In those of the North, as 
 in others, there are conspicuous evils which are easily 
 censured. Some men there flaunt their follies and 
 
n O E B r C K . 47 
 
 vices before the world with singular hardihoocl. But 
 my acquaintance with the Nortliern people has not 
 been general or intimate and we cannot judge them 
 rightly without knowing them thoroughly. Without 
 such knowledge, it is fair to presume that, in the 
 main, thoy are like other men — like ourselves. Re- 
 numibei how we have been traduced among them 
 when accidental anomalies have been culled and cari- 
 catured as charactei'istics of our social system. Thus 
 deplorable animosities have been kindled and fanned 
 into a dangerous flame. We should not repeat tho 
 error in censuring them. Charity forbids it, and, 
 since mistakes here endanger the public tranquility, 
 prudence and patriotism enforce the lesson of 
 charity." 
 
 " Is it wise then," inquired Mr. Fitzhugh, " to shut, 
 our eyes to the faults of our associates when they 
 affect om- safety ? Should we not consider whether 
 the corruptions, or the passions, or the policy of the 
 North requires us to dissolve our connection with 
 that country *?" 
 
 " A truce ;" cried Mr. Ambler, " since the conver- 
 sation is drifting into a political discussion, I must 
 retreat from it. Will you not help me out of the 
 scrape, Julia?" 
 
 " I hope to have Miss Julia for an ally in support- 
 ing my political opinions upon a proper occasion," 
 said Fitzhugh. 
 
 '• I refer you to papa for my politics. He is my 
 political conscience-keeper. But I am glad to second 
 Mr. Ambler's desire to converse upon less exciting 
 topics ; especially as I have wished to hear the con- 
 clusion of an incident which he had begun to relato 
 when dinner was announced. You were speaking, 
 
48 ROEBUCK. 
 
 Mr. Ambler, of a companion }-ou had in the carriage 
 this morning." 
 
 "Yes; you, Colonel Fairfax, know Abraham Mar- 
 lin, the cooper ?" 
 
 *• Very well ; an odd character, but a good man and 
 a good mechanic." 
 
 "Have you ever heard him preach 1" asked the 
 doctor. 
 
 " Preach 1" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax. 
 
 " Preach or exhort, as you prefer. lie is an illiter- 
 ate enthusiast who has stumbled into a sect of New- 
 Lights and forthwith taken to exhorting his neigh- 
 bors. They are beginnmg to style him pas^oii, I am 
 told." 
 
 " I dare say he is a worthy man," mildly observed 
 Mr. Ambler, " though he may be presumptuous. In 
 all times there have been honest men who felt them- 
 Belves called to preach religious truth because their 
 bouls were iired with religious zeal." 
 
 " They mistake the fever of fanaticism for inspira- 
 tion," said the doctor. 
 
 " Uncle Dick, I fear your late reform needs reform- 
 ation." 
 
 " True, Colonel Julia ; you are as good as a second 
 conscience to me. Since you are not satisfied with 
 my reformation, I promise not to reform any more — 
 reform myself, I mean." 
 
 '• However," continue#l Mr. Ambler, " it was not 
 of Marlin, the cooper, that I was about to sj^eak par- 
 ticularly, but of his son, Mark." 
 
 " Mark Marlin — I know him well," remarked Hugh 
 Fitzhugh ; " he is a fine young fellow. I met him 
 first in hunting. His father lives in a cabin on a small 
 piece of land at the foot of the Ridge." 
 
ROEBUCK. 49 
 
 ** Well, as I came from the vilLac^c to-day I over- 
 took a youth walking on the road-side. My attention 
 wns attracted by his fine athletic form and his elastic 
 step. When he turned his face to me, and, raising 
 his hat, saluted me with the title of passon (my dear 
 doctor) I thought his countenance displayed more in- 
 telligence than we are used to find in such homely 
 garb as he* wore and at his age, for he could not be 
 more than seventeen. Curious to learn something 
 about him and willing to give the pedestrian a lift at 
 the expense of your horses, Mrs. Fairfax, I invited 
 him into the carriage. He courteously declined at 
 first, but when I asked him to grant me some conver- 
 sation as a favor to me, he came in. I soon learned 
 that his name was Mark Marlin, whose father I knew 
 slightly, and I drew him on to such other disclosures 
 as might enable me to judge of my duty to my young 
 neighbor." 
 
 "We, young men," interposed Plugh Fitzhugh, 
 " have to thank you for treating us all as sons rather 
 than as neighbors only." 
 
 " It is one of my pleasant duties, Hugh. I discov- 
 ered that Mark had an acut« intellect, and that he 
 had reflected much on some of the knotty problems 
 of life. From defect of education his ideas were 
 somewhat confused and imperfectly expressed. I saw 
 that he had some ambition, and I asked him what he 
 aimed to make of himself as a man. ' A gentleman,' 
 was his brief and ready response. I endeavored then 
 to gather fi'om his talk what conception of a gentle- 
 man had fired his youthful ambition. He neither de- 
 fined nor described the character, but simply said— 
 * Colonel Fred is the sort of man.* Thus, you per- 
 
50 ROEBUCK. 
 
 ceive, my friend, that you arc the model of our youth 
 — even of tlie sons of our mechanics.'" 
 
 " And I am sure," Mrs. Fairfax began — 
 
 " Hush, my dear," erred the colonel with his cheery 
 laugh, '' if you open your lips about your husband, 
 "Mr. Ambler, as a faithful pastor, will have to rebuke 
 us both for my manifold perfections. At present I 
 stand charged only with being a gentleman, as, of 
 course, I am bound to be." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax replied with a look such as loving 
 wives have often bestowed on worse husbands, and 
 the clergyman proceeded — 
 
 "I reminded Mark that Colonel Fairfax had an 
 ample fortune, which secured to him the social posi- 
 tion of a gentleman. He looked at me, and said with 
 Bome hesitation — 'you are not rich, but you are a 
 gentleman.' I could not, of course, repel this ar^u 
 mentum ad homiiian. But I observed that the colonel 
 sprang from an ancient family. He did not shrink 
 from the reflection implied upon the humility of hie 
 own family, but, in awkward phrases, went on to say 
 that birth obliged Colonel Fred to be a gentleman in 
 character and conduct, while it secured to him the 
 consideration due to a gentleman without effort on 
 his part in the beginning. ' But,' he added, ' a poor 
 man, and the son of a poor man, in a free countiy, 
 can rise to a gentleman's place if he behaves like a 
 gentleman.' He thought that wealth would help him 
 to his object, but he had a suspicion that the ways by 
 which men get rich suddenly are unfriendly to the 
 sentiments and habits that should distinguish a gen- 
 tleman. He believed it would be better to aim at 
 one of those professions which people look up to as 
 carrying the idea of social rank. If we should have 
 
ROEBUCK. 51 
 
 a war in which it would be creditable to volunteer, 
 he would be inclined to go as a soldier, and fight his 
 way up to a commission, as that would entitle him to 
 the position of a gentleman, and, for the character of 
 a gentleman, he would keep Colonel Fred in mind as 
 his model. Besides, he said, he was studying books 
 at home every evening after his day's work was done. 
 The conversation by which these thoughts were 
 brought to light, one after another, occupied the time 
 until we came to the end of the avenue. Mark then 
 left me, after promising to visit me at the par- 
 sonage." 
 
 " I hope," said the Colonel, '' he will prove to be 
 worthy of the care which I foresee you will bestow 
 on the development of his character." 
 
 " Can you doubt it, brother Fred, when you remem- 
 ber his model ?" 
 
 " I will be surety for him," said Hugh Fitzhugh, 
 *' though I believe Mr. Ambler, after a single half- 
 hour's ride with him, knows him better than I do. 
 In tracing the springs of his conduct, Mr. Ambler, 
 you have shown an art which I do not possess." 
 
 " I learned something of that art in my first pro- 
 fession, the law, and I have learned the best uses of 
 it in my present profession." 
 
 " Have you heard what happened last night to oui 
 neighbor Eckles'?" inquired Colonel Fairfax. 
 
 '' I have not. What was it ?" 
 
 " Eckles, you may know, has for some time been 
 excluded from society by the gentlemen of the county 
 on account of his cruel treatment of his slaves." 
 
 " He came from Massachusetts," grumbled the doc- 
 tor ; " those Northern men, when they settle among 
 us, do not know how to. treat negroes, because they 
 
52 ROEBUCK. 
 
 liavo not been bred as slaveholders. They, with a 
 few native reprobates, give the only color of truth 
 there is for the enormous calumnies upon our society 
 that are circulated at the North." 
 
 " Yesterday," resumed the colonel, " he maltreated 
 one of his slaves, and, to punish him for it, some 
 young men of his neighborhood went to his house in 
 the evening, and, inviting him out, they ducked him 
 in the river — by way of a warning, they told him." 
 
 *' I hope he was not seriously hurt," observed Mrs. 
 Fairfax. 
 
 " No ; he got a thorough wetting only, I under- 
 stand. It is probable, however, that he will sell his 
 property and leave the country." 
 
 " No doubt," said the doctor, " he will return to 
 the North, turn abolitionist and deliver lectm*es on 
 the horrors of slavery — admittance twenty-five cents 
 a head." 
 
 " Might we not, Colonel," asked Mr. Ambler, " p: o 
 tect the negroes by law more eifectually against such 
 masters 1" 
 
 '' It is doubtful. Good as well as evil rssults from 
 the large discretionary authority allowed by law to 
 the masters, as in the case also of parents. Opinion, 
 religion, custom and time are safer as well as surer 
 forces than law foF the melioration of such social insti- 
 tutions. Quid leges sine moribus jprojiclunt ? During 
 the last two centuries the condition of our slaves has 
 been greatly improved without much aid from legis- 
 lation. The authority of the masters, in point of 
 fact, is seldom abused in Virginia. We may expect 
 improvement to be progressive. The trenchant oper- 
 ation of positive law upon the intricate and delicate re- 
 lations oi" society is apt to be mischievous, unless tho 
 
Pv E B U C K . 53 
 
 law merely sanctions or completes what time has 
 proved and usage enacted. Then, though law does no 
 harm, it is almost superlluous. Thus, when time had 
 left little for law to do, slavery was abolished by law 
 in the Northern States. In England it was abolished 
 insensibly by time alone, without law." 
 
 "At all events, colonel, perhaps our legislation 
 might be amended with respect to the marriage of 
 slaves and the separation of their families." 
 
 " Possibly, if the pestilent agitation of more vital 
 questions connected with the institution did not pre- 
 vent a calm consideration of such subjects, some 
 practicable amendment might be devised. But it 
 would be difficult to frame a law that would not do 
 more harm than good. The practical evils to be cor- 
 rected have been in a great measure removed already 
 in Virginia by the silent influences to which I have 
 adverted. Families are seldom separated without 
 their consent, except in circumstances of necessity, 
 such as must separate families in all communities and 
 under whatever laws. Marriage is more generally 1 
 enforced by the authority of the masters than will- ; 
 ingly observed by the negroes. Their natural indif- 
 ference to marital and parental obligations is more in 
 fault than our laws. If you absolutely forbid the 
 separation of families, will you not condemn both 
 masters and "slaves to unavoidable suffering in many 
 cases V 
 
 " But a Christian State should protect the sacred 
 bond of matrimony." 
 
 " The purely religious idea connected with marriage 
 by many Chri jtians is not a proper subject for legisla- 
 tion. It is to be inculcated and enforced, as it is 
 now among whites and blacks, by the teaching and 
 
51 ROEBUCK. 
 
 discipline of religious bodies. I believe that, when- 
 ever the slaves are prepared to perform the duties of 
 the family, there will be little need of law to protect 
 their family ties. Probably they are better protected 
 and more faithfully observed now in Virginia than 
 such ties are among free negres anywhere or among 
 the poorest classes in other countries." 
 
 '' Xow, my dear husband, I think we m.ay lay these 
 grave themes aside. Julia and I have been silent a 
 long time." 
 
 " Place aux dames. I yield the floor to the ladies. 
 Shall we talk of a wedding ?" 
 
 " I can tell you something about a wedding nearer 
 home than you think, perhaps, papa, and not so 
 foreign to your own grave discourse as your mode 
 of putting that question implies," said Julia. 
 
 '' A weddinor it shall be then, dauirhter " 
 
 Julia gave a slight and humorous description' of 
 the last grand wedding among the serv^ants when 
 her maid, Grace, had been taken for better for worse 
 by carpenter Dick, with every vow that should bind 
 two lives together and with a disinterested contempt 
 of marriage settlements ; when all Africa of Roebuck 
 held high festival ; when the women, '' black but 
 comely like the tents af Kedar," arrayed themselves 
 in gorgeous colors, and when Mrs. Fairfax, having 
 supplied a great supper, gave a smiling care to the 
 entertainment of her servants. The slaves had jollity 
 and sensuous pleasures which a negro loves ; master 
 and mistress assumed the cares which a negro abhors. 
 The children of Ham were cursed with servitude but 
 their nature was adapted to make it easy. The rose 
 of a blessing often blooms on the thorn of a cui*se. 
 
ROEBUCK. 65 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ROEBUCK TIIHEATENED. 
 
 One evening, a few days later, Albert Palmer sat 
 at home with his father and mother. The parlor in 
 which they were had costly furnitm-e, and the house 
 was large and commodious. The father, Mr. Israel 
 Palmer, was a little over fifty-five years of age, and, 
 in appearance, might have been his son grown older, 
 rich and wary. Some score of years before that time 
 he had come from New England with a little capital, 
 and settled in Virginia as a merchant. He had 
 thriven, and, a few years ago, he purchased land in 
 the county with a hope of crowning a life of success- 
 ful business with the respectable enjoyments of a 
 wealthy planter. He now coveted, as he had once 
 envied, the social rank which he regarded as aristo- 
 cracy. He was hospitably received in the county, 
 but, by degrees, a difference of manners and tastes 
 rendered the intercourse between him and his neigh- 
 "bors more constrained and less frequent. Being 
 jealous and suspicious, he imagined offence where 
 none was intended. Estrangement and then 
 dislike ensued. Stung by fancied insult, he medi- 
 tated retaliation. He was not a man to yield to a 
 real or imaginary conspiracy to exclude him from the 
 society of the " aristocracy." He was resolved to re- 
 tain his estate and reside on it. He would watch for 
 opportunities to elevate his own family and to avenge 
 
56 ROEBUCK. 
 
 himself on others. His feelings had becomo nlmost 
 morbid when the prospect of secession and war set 
 his shrewd and active mind to calculating what ad- 
 vantages he might derive from those events. Ha 
 was so cautious and secret that his thoughts were not 
 fi'eely disclosed even to his lamily. 
 
 His wife was a tall, slender woman, with many an- 
 gles and no curves. She wore her hair, her eyes, her 
 lips, her limbs and her gown with formal precision. 
 She sat erect in a square, high-backed chair. Sho 
 placed her hands on her lap smoothly along, palm to 
 palm. She set her feet flat on the floor, near toge- 
 ther, and making with each other the veiy angle 
 which, according to her notion, was proper. When 
 she moved from one seat to another, she elongated 
 her figure in rising with the jointed, hinged and 
 oiled exactness of a mathematical instrument, glided 
 away on a straight line, with mechanical regularity 
 of st-ep, and let herself down like a jointed instrument 
 again. AYhen she talked, her voice ran out in a level 
 stream without break, emphasis or cadence. The 
 sentiments she uttered were always frigid, but never 
 wrong, according to the standard of right which she 
 had studied. The warmer and nobler emotions were 
 represented in her discourse, by eulogies of them. 
 She deprecated theii* opposites with little hitches in 
 her utterances that were hints of horror. She passed 
 for a saint in her lamily and in her conscience too. 
 She practiced the politeness of elaborate flattery. She 
 was a woman of learning, for she had been edue'ated 
 in Boston, and talked rather '' like a book" than like 
 a lady. She remembered some scraps of Latin, which 
 she lugged into her conversation in season and out 
 of season. 
 
ROEBUCK. 5/ 
 
 Husband, wife and son were discussin.or the latest 
 news. The same subject was discussed that evening 
 in every habitation of Virginia where the intelligence 
 liad been received. The commissioners deputed by ^ 
 the Confederate government to visit Washington and ;* 
 solicit an amicable adjustment of the questions inci- 
 dent to secession, after being detained with delusive « 
 art until certain warlike preparations were secretly \ 
 made, were rejected. A defiance and provocative 
 of war was oiFered to the South by sending vessels to 
 Charleston harbor to be fired upon, and finally it was 
 announced that the President of the United States 
 had, by proclamation, called forth an army to be em- 
 ployed against the Confederate States, and that, in 
 consequence of this proclamation, the Convention of 
 Virf^inia had passed an ordinance of secession, sub- 
 ject'^to ratification or rejection by the people at the 
 polls. It was also rumored that the State authoritie3 
 had dispatched a volunteer force to seize the armory 
 at Harper's Ferry. 
 
 This means war," pronounced the paternal 
 
 a M 
 
 Palmer. 
 
 " Undoubtedly war," echoed the son. 
 
 '' The ordinance of secession will be ratified by the 
 people." 
 
 " Almost unanimously." 
 
 " We should be prepared for those events," said the 
 father. 
 
 " We must choose a side, no doubt," replied the 
 
 son. 
 
 " Or sides." 
 
 This brief, ambiguous qualification, added by his 
 wary father, was not quite intelligible to Albert, but 
 
 he asked no explajiation and none was offered. The 
 
 g* 
 
58 ROEBUCK. 
 
 old gentleman sat for some minntes in silence looking 
 at his son, as if •cautiously pondering how f\r he miglit 
 trust his own flesh and blood with his thoughts. At 
 length he quietly remarked — 
 
 " The North will subjugate the South." 
 
 " Do you really think so ?" 
 
 " It is mathematically certain.'* 
 
 "You scarcely appreciate the Southern people, 
 flither." 
 
 '' I appreciate statistics." 
 
 Again there was silence. The thin lips of Mrs. 
 Palmer parted, as if to open a passage for the steady 
 little breeze of words which usually flowed without 
 apparent impulse from her mcnith, whenever it was 
 open, like the breath of the Blowing Cave. But she 
 saw that the gentlemen, while gazing at each other, 
 were revolving thoughts which might not brook 
 interruption from her just then. So the lips were laid 
 together again in a straight seam. Her husband re- 
 sumed the conversation in the same quiet tone. 
 
 " This war will destroy slavery." 
 
 "I do not foresee that as a necessary consequence," 
 replied Albert, " even if the South should be con- 
 quered, still less, if the independence of the South 
 should be successfully maintained." 
 
 " As hostility to slavery was the origin, the destruc- 
 tion of slavery must be the end of the war. If it 
 should have the magnitude and duration which I 
 anticipat-e, it will destroy slavery even if, in the final 
 result, the South should retain its independence." 
 
 " My dear husband and my beloved son," Mrs. 
 Palmer slipped into a slight pause in the conversation 
 of the gentlemen, "my conscience prompts me to 
 observe that we ought not to grieve at the release of 
 
ROEBUCK. 59 
 
 millions of our fellow-beings from the shacliles of 
 bondage and the lash of cruel task-masters ; all men 
 are created free and equal ; man cannot lawfully hold 
 property in man ; traffic in human flesh cannot be 
 blessed with the approval of heaven ; this reflection 
 occurred to my mind, my dear husband, when you 
 sold Tom, to be carried to Lousiana without his wife 
 and children, but it was true, as you said, that he was 
 quite disobedient and he did not want his family to 
 go 'with him and his wife did not want to go, and that 
 last family you bought you got at alow price, because 
 the owner did not wish to separate them and could 
 not find another purchaser for them all ; it was very 
 humane in you ; I hope the day will soon come when 
 the whole family of man will enjoy the sunshine of 
 universal freedom under " 
 
 " We should be prepared for these events, Albert," 
 repeated the father. 
 
 " Prudence requu'es it," prudently echoed the son. 
 
 " I will sell my slaves." 
 
 " The money might be more secure in any event of 
 the war." 
 
 " But, my dear husband, would it not be more con- 
 sistent with our principles to emancipate them ?" 
 
 '' To be denounced as an abolitionist?" 
 
 " True ; that is an insuperable objection ; we must 
 preserve our respectability in society ; my sensibility 
 is deeply wounded when I think of the painful neces- 
 sities of our position here ; I sometimes regret that we 
 left New England, coelum iion animutfi mutant qui trans 
 mare currunt ; to be sure we have improved our worldly 
 condition here, but nothing is so swQ^t as a calm 
 and quiet conscience; I suppose me must sell the 
 negroes " 
 
60 ROEBUCK. 
 
 "I will invest the money abroad," added Mr. 
 Palmer. 
 
 " Would it not be pnident to sell your land also 
 and invest the money abroad ?" asked Albert. 
 
 "Never!" exclaimed the father, rising and walk- 
 ing about the room in evident excitement. It was 
 part of a cherished plan to retain his land as .the 
 territorial foundation of that social supremacy to 
 which he aspired. The proposal to sell it pricked his 
 most sensitive nerve. But, with habitual self-control, 
 he restrained the expression of his thoughts, and, 
 after some time, resumed his seat and his composure. 
 
 *'You have said, Albert, that we must choose a 
 Bide in this war." 
 
 " * Or sides,' you added, father." 
 
 " "Why should a man risk his fortunes with one 
 party exclusively 1 Or why should you and 1 both 
 appear on the same side ?" 
 
 These questions surprised Albert. lie had taken 
 for granted that, in such a contest, it would be neces- 
 sary for him to act a decided part, and he had not 
 di'eamed of acting in opposition to his father. He 
 had made some progress toward a decision for him- 
 self, but with a mental reservation that his father was 
 to approve his final choice. lie had been educated al 
 a Northern University, but even tliere, he liad aftected 
 to play the Southerner. The young men of Virginia 
 always treated him with cordial friendship, and, by 
 their frank manners, high spirit and honorable con- 
 duct, they won his esteem and excited his emulation. 
 From them he borrowed some sentiments of local 
 patriotism, sncli as the young always cherish, and he 
 was ambitious to appear among them as a true and 
 ai'dont Virginian. He adopted his father's aspiration 
 
KOEBUCK. 01 
 
 to improvo tho social position of the family, and 
 thought his own marriage might promote that object. 
 He was not insensible to the charms of Julia Fairfax, 
 and, with hereditjiry thrift, had calculated the advan- 
 tajres which the hand of that heiress could bestow. 
 Under the inlluence of various feelings and calcula- 
 tions, he had accustomed himself to make loud pro- 
 fessions of violent Southern sentiments, and he could 
 scarcely have told how far they were sincere and how 
 far affected. He was inclined to range himself still 
 on the side of Vu'ginia in the war that was now immi- 
 nent, but he was ready to weigh all advantages on 
 each side before taking an irrevocable step. It had 
 never occurred to him that he might secure the 
 advantages of both sides or of neutrality. Perplexed 
 by his father's questions, he looked at him as if he 
 would rea<-l an explanation in his face, but that was 
 not to be read like the face of a clock. Mr. Palmer, 
 instead of explaining asked another question — 
 * " To which side do you incline, Albert V* 
 
 " I have believed that it was your desire to identify 
 our family with this community, and it would seem 
 most consistent with your views that I should em- 
 brace the cause of Virginia," cautiously replied the 
 Bon. After another pause the father said — 
 
 " You have visited Miss Fairfax '?" 
 
 " Not often." 
 
 "What course will her father pursue in the war?" 
 
 " Doubtless he will adhere to Yu*ginia." 
 
 " He owns a fine estate'?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " It will be confiscated." 
 
 Again there was silence. The suggestion of con- 
 fiscation was new to Albert, and both gentlemen 
 
62 ROEBUCK. 
 
 were interested in trains of thought connected with 
 it, but neither communicated his reflections to the 
 other. At lengtli the father briefly announced his 
 conchision. . 
 
 ' Go with the South, Albert. I will adhere to the 
 North." 
 
 '• Really, father, you will oblige me if you will ex- 
 plain the reasons which lead you to a decision so ex- 
 traordinary." 
 
 '• Is it not natural for me to prefer the land in 
 which I was born and in which I lived until I was 
 too old to discard the attachments of youth, and 
 that you should prefer the land in which you have 
 grown up ?" 
 
 " Possibly ; but" — the young man hesitated. He 
 was about to insinuate that his father had put forth 
 a mere pretext to cover deeper reasons. He was un- 
 derstood. The father replied to his thought. 
 
 '• I choose, then, the party that is most likely to 
 prevail. I expect thus to save my property. You 
 have none to lose. By the sale of negroes I may obtain 
 means to purchase confiscated estates. All will enure 
 to the benefit of yourself and your mother and sister. 
 This is preparation for one event and that almost cer- 
 tain. But if the South should happen to succeed 
 you can save my property, and, by marriage, you 
 may obtain another estate. Now do you understand ?" 
 he asked with asperity, as if he was angry with his 
 son for requiring him to disclose his secret plans. 
 The latter inquired — 
 
 '• May not yoiu' property or perhaps your person be 
 in danger here, when it becomes known that you em- 
 brace the Northern cause'?" 
 
 " It need not become known here.** 
 
ROEBUCK. 63 
 
 As the gentlemen ceased to converse, Mrs. Palmer 
 deemed this a favorable opportunity for herself to 
 talk, but she had to soliloquize. Her keen scent of 
 the family interest made her a safe confidant of all 
 domestic debates, and the instinct of unwavering self- 
 ishness had sometimes carried her on a bee-line to 
 the stores of fortune when reason would have stum- 
 bled in the search. But when business had been 
 settled, the gentlemen did not deem it necessary to 
 hear her homily. 
 
 " It is a good thing to see brethren dwell together 
 in unity ; it is a great crime to destroy the glorious 
 Union established by our fathers and cemented with 
 their blood — liberty and union now and forever one 
 and inseparable — every man should do his duty to his 
 country ; dulce et decouni est pro patria mori; we should 
 be willing to die for our native land ; your native 
 land is New England, my dear husband — ' lives there 
 a man with soul so dead who never' to himself hath 
 said, this is my own, my native land;' you did not 
 cease to be a true Kew Englander by coming to Vir- 
 ginia to make a fortune ; even a poor banished exile 
 carries with him the sentiments which he inhaled with 
 his native SAV^patrxe quis exul se quorjue fug'it ; the 
 North is the strongest ; why should the dear children 
 lose their patrimony in a quarrel between Northern 
 fanatics and Southern fire-eaters ; a man who don't 
 provide for his family is several degrees worse than 
 an Infidel ; if poor Colonel Fairfax's estate should 
 be confiscated you may be able to buy it with the 
 money you get for the negroes ; I abhor the traffic in 
 human flesh ; I was brought up in pious principles ; 
 if the South should succeed, Albert might marry Miss 
 Fairfax, and save the estate all the sain?3 ; it would be 
 
64 ROEBUCK. 
 
 60 kind of us to keep it in the poor colonel's family ; 
 we need not talk about these things ; nobody need 
 ever know, Albert, whether your father is North or 
 South ; he is a very wise man." 
 
 '•Mother, where is sister Jane? I vrant some 
 music." 
 
 Sister Jane was called, but her music only served 
 to remind Albert of Julia Fairfax, whose image lured 
 him along a chain of logic that ended in a conclusion 
 favorable to the Southern cause. He resolved to ad- 
 here to it for reasons leather more reputable than those 
 which his father had suggested. But he found it 
 satisfactory to know that a course of conduct which 
 was right was also, in the judgment of his wise father, 
 prudent in all aspects. 
 
 When the music ceased, Mr. Palmer drew forth his 
 watch and intimated that the hour for family worship 
 had arrived. All the daughters were summoned, and 
 ^L*s. Palmer placed on a stand beside him a Bible, a 
 hymn book and a candle ; for, in eveiy external ob- 
 servance, as in every prudential vutue, Mi\ Israel 
 Palmer was the model of a Christian. 
 
ROEBUCK. 65 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 vr A K . 
 
 Om the next day sat the County Court. At an 
 e^rly hour the court-house gi'een and the village street 
 were thronged with men. Horses filled every stable 
 and shed, and stood along both sides of the street 
 from end to end. The county had turned out, for the 
 county was deeply agitated. 
 
 The village had but a single street. On one side of 
 it stood the com-t-house, with its adjacent offices and 
 neighboring jail. Opposite was the Swan Tavern, an 
 anctent inn^fimious for good cheer. Scattered along 
 either side of the street were two rival stores, the 
 shops of the blacksmith, saddler, wagon-maker and 
 shoemaker, the offices of two lawyers and two physi- 
 cians, and the dwellings of half-a-dozen mechanics. 
 At one end of the street stood a wooden building, of 
 which the lower story was occupied by a wool-carding 
 machine, propelled by horse- power, and in the upper 
 story was a printing office, from which a weekly news- 
 paper entitled the " Tobacco Leaf" was issued about 
 twice a month, and in some months thrice. At the 
 other end of the street was an old church, built in Co- 
 lonial times, with a parsonage of less antiquity. The 
 church-yard contained many monuments that were 
 moss-grown or crumbling with age. On some of 
 them could yet be dimly traced heraldic or literal me- 
 mentoes of the pride of a former generation, and on 
 
C6 ROEBUCK. 
 
 others were inscriptions so quaint that nothing but 
 antiquity could save them from from a suspicion of 
 drollery. With these, of course, were decent but 
 tasteless tombstones of modern date. 
 
 Such was the village which had once been endowed 
 with a proper name — some name already famous, or 
 one which the village was expected to render famous. 
 But it was almost forgotten and never mentioned in 
 the county. People always spoke simply of "the 
 village," as if there had been but one in the universe. 
 In fact, there was not another of equal importance in 
 the county, and there were but few in Virginia. Ex- 
 cept those whose professions or trades bound them to 
 towns, people in that fair, bright county preferred 
 rural residences. In the wide suburbs of this village 
 resided, among shady groves and on small farms or 
 large lots, the merchants, professional men and prin- 
 cipal officers of the county. 
 
 On the court green — a shady lawn of considerable 
 extent — the citizens of the county wereaccustomed to 
 meet on all public days for the transaction of busi- 
 ness, to hear and tell news, or to discuss the affairs 
 of the county, the State and the Union. Never 
 before, perhaps, had so many of them been assem- 
 bled there as ou this April court day, in the year 
 eighteen hundred and sixty-one. A glance at the 
 assemblage would have discovered that there was 
 intense popular excitement, but it was silent and 
 stern. 
 
 "When Colonel Fairfax went upon the gTeen that 
 day, and even before he had left his horse, he was sm*- 
 rounded by different knots of men, successively gi'asp- 
 ing his hand and seeking his counsel. He was always 
 received there as a favorite citizen, for he was very 
 
ROEBUCK. C7 
 
 popular. But on this occasion it was not mere popu- 
 larity, it was a profound respect for his wisdom, integ- 
 rity and pati'iotisni that drew the people around him, 
 as their counsellor in a crisis of public dan<;'Gr. To 
 their eager inquiries he replied, sadly but firmly, " the 
 hour has come — we must figlit." His words flew from 
 mouth to mouth, and the whole multitude soon knew 
 that '' Colonel Fred thought we must fight." Tliis 
 opinion accorded so exactly with the previous convic- 
 tion of every mind and the impulse of every heart 
 that it was accepted at once as a conclusive judgment. 
 When it became generally understood that the ques- 
 tion of war was determined, and that the people were 
 all of one mind, the hushed excitement was succeeded 
 by mm-murs of mutual encouragement. Most of those 
 present were thoughtful and resolute men, who were 
 well aware that the war which they accepted as un- 
 avoidable was for them a calamity. They felt as 
 brave and rational men may feel when they are forced 
 to choose between the risk of death and the loss of 
 something held dearer than life. There were no des- 
 perate wretches to whom war might bring relief. 
 There were no mere " food for powder." But when 
 the feelings of the crowd began to find vent in Avords, 
 Bome enthusiastic young men evinced the animal joy 
 of youth at the i^rospect of glorious strife. Among 
 the boys excitement, as usual, eff'ervesced in hilarity. 
 Then* spirit of glee was caught up as a multitude 
 catches any emotion, no one can tell how or why, and 
 in a little while smiles were seen on the lips of men 
 whose brows were yet stern. Their hearts were heavy 
 but not dismayed. The spring of courage supported 
 the weight of war. 
 
 Hugh Fitzhugh stood upon the steps of the portico 
 
68 ROEBUCK. 
 
 in front of the cmnt-hoiise. A crier of the oonrt, 
 standing beside him, solicited attention by shouting 
 with stentorian voice — " Oyez, Oyez ! silence is com- 
 manded, on pain of imprisonment — beg pardon — I 
 take that baek — Oyez, Oyez ! Hugh Fitzhn^h, Esquire, 
 will now address the people, and God save the Com- 
 monwealth and this worshipful court — I beg pardon 
 again — but I will say, God save old Virginia, and I'll 
 never take it back, pardon or no pardon." 
 
 Whether the crier had a design or merely blundered 
 into an accustomed formula of his office, his final 
 prayer for the Commonwealth, uttered with earnest 
 emphasis, sent a thrill through the crowd. A score of 
 voices cried, " three cheers for old Virginia — God 
 bless her !" and all the people responded with a tumult 
 of cheering. When there was silence, Fitzhugh said: 
 
 " It is proposed to raise a company of volunteer 
 cavalry for the defeiice of the State. I hold a paper 
 prepared for the signatures of those who wish to vol- 
 unteer. Let them now come forward. If others will 
 pardon me for taking the start of them, I will set my 
 name down first." 
 
 '• Well done, Hugh !" exclaimed the older citizens. 
 *' Wait for me ! Wait for me I" shouted many of the 
 younger. "Tlu'ee cheers for Hugh Fitzhugh I" cried 
 one — " thi'ee cheers for the cavalry 1" added another, 
 and " three cheers for the Old Dominion !" was a gen- 
 eral call. All the cheers proposed were given with a 
 vrillj.and while the raa.-is fanned itself into a fiame with 
 its own breath, the young men were stepping forward 
 and enrolling their names. But it became necessaiy 
 to retire from the portico, for within the temple of jus- 
 tice the voice of the crier was heard commanding 
 silence in the formula with which the sessions of the 
 
ROEBUCK. 69 
 
 court were opened. Tlie court was held by five jus- 
 tices of the peace, -respectable farmers, and the preside 
 ing justice was Captain Walker, a venerable man of 
 ninety. He was remarkable for vigor of mind and 
 body at that age. Few men of seventy canied their 
 burden of years with as unbending firmness. In the 
 earliest years of the century he was a leading citizen 
 of the county, respected for his uprightness, liis en- 
 ergy and' his ability. Increase of years added all that 
 should 'accompany old age. Having once served as a 
 captain of volunteers, he was still called '' captain." 
 The fictitious title of colonel, often courteously or 
 jocosely confeiTed on conspicuous citizens by popular 
 brevet, could not supersede the real rank of actual ser- 
 vice. A fiction fastened upon his name would have 
 offended the genuine esteem felt by his neighbors for a 
 character so ruggedly sincere. 
 
 It was apparent that no judicial business could be 
 transacted that day. The Commonwealth's attorney, 
 Mr. Williams, rose to address the court, and, after 
 alluding to the commencement of war, observed that 
 in the first instance the counties would probably have 
 to provide for the immediate expenditures required for 
 the public defence, for the equipment of volunteers and 
 for the support of their families in the cases of poor 
 men during their absence from home. At his sugges- 
 tion, the court ordered all the justices of the county to 
 be summoned to the next monthly term for the pur- 
 pose of considering this subject. He then stated 
 that the people desired to hear a discussion of public 
 affairs, and particularly of the question submitted to 
 them by the convention — that of secession. In order 
 that the court-house might be occupied for this pur- 
 pose, the court, on his motion, adjourned for the day. 
 
70 ROEBUCIt. 
 
 Proclamntion having boen made at the door, the 
 people gathered into the court-hotise — all except those 
 who were too intent upon the formation of a company 
 of cavalry. The question of war had been deter- 
 mined, or rather, as they thought, it had been forced 
 by their enemies. The question of secession remained 
 to be discussed and decided. The house was soon 
 brim-full. The dense assemblage included citizens of 
 all ages, classes and conditions. High and low, rich 
 and poor, learned and unlettered, were- packed 
 together. The upturned faces expressed every degree 
 of intelligence and a great variety of character ; but 
 all were earnest faces, and not a dozen men were there 
 who would have told a lie under any temptation. 
 
 According to custom, a chairman of the meeting 
 was appointed. The person selected for that office 
 was Captain Walker, the presiding justice of the 
 County Court. When he ' stepped forward on the 
 justices' bench t© take the chair the whole assembly 
 rose in token of respect for him and stood until he 
 was seated. Before taking his seat . he spoke a few 
 word^. 
 
 " My countrymen : I thank you for this honor, but 
 I accept it with sadness, I rejoiced at the birth of 
 the Union. Now, on the verge of the grave myself, 
 I am summoned to its death-bed. Would to God I 
 had died first ! But it is better to have liberty with- 
 out union than union without liberty." 
 
ROEBUCK. 71 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 SECESSION. 
 
 Some of the speeches delivered to the meeting were 
 long and elaborate, but they have not been preserved 
 in full. Brief notes, taken by the editor of the 
 *' Tobacco Leaf," were published in the next issue of 
 that journal, and thus the heads of argument can now 
 be reproduced. They will be given with their imper- 
 fect brevity, but in the connected form of speeches 
 rather than in the manner of detached memoranda, as 
 they appeared in the newspaper. Mr. Williams first 
 addressed the meeting : 
 
 "You are yet a free people," he began, "you are 
 assembled, not as conspirators concealed by darkness and 
 bound by clandestine oaths, nor as subjects overawed by 
 bayonets, but as free citizens deliberating in open day 
 according to ancient usage upon tlie affairs of your country. 
 Whatever may be your decision this day or at the polls, 
 you will, in deciding, exercise a hereditary right in a law- 
 ful manner. You will perform tlie gravest duty that ever 
 has devolved upon you as citizens. Decide for your 
 country. 
 
 "You love the Union. Only a few weeks ago, at the 
 election of members of tlie convention now in session, you 
 gave a new and conclusive proof of your devotion to it by 
 your votes. Even to-day, though your judgments may be 
 convinced that secession is n^icessary, yet in advocating it I 
 may shoci: the sensibility of your life-long attachment. In 
 no State has the Union been cherished with more sincere 
 affection than in Virginia. But you will not shrink froiU 
 duty because it is painful. 
 
72 ROEBUCK. 
 
 *• The riglit of a State to withdraw from the Union when- 
 CTcr, in her j i Igmant, it has beconi-? oppressive anil sha 
 has no other adequate remedy, is a right which our fathers 
 have taught us to venerate as essential to the preservation 
 of our liber'ties under the Federal system. You arc familiar 
 with the reasons by wliich it has been vindicated. I need 
 only remind you of some of those reasons. According to 
 an acknowledged principle of natural justice and of pubiij 
 law, a sovereign Slate has a riglit to dissolve ber compacts 
 with other States whenever, in her judgment, there is ja.^t 
 cause to dissolve them. If this right were not allowed, a 
 State would often have no ju5t redress for the violation of a 
 compact by anotlier party. Slie is held t9 be justified in 
 annulling it in morals as well as in law, wh-n it has been 
 wilfully violated by the otlier party in points essential to 
 her security or welfare. The application of these principles 
 to the Federal Union will not be denied by any one who 
 admits tliat our States are sovereign and that the Constitu- 
 tion is a compact between them. But these were tho 
 propositions established in a memorable contest— the first 
 great Constitutional controversy in the Union. Virg'nl.A 
 liad a conspicuous part in that controversy, and has preserved 
 for the instruction of future ages the unanswerable proofs she 
 then arrayed to establish that the States are sovereign and 
 the Federal Constitution is a compact bet^Ye3n them. 
 
 *' When the Colonies threw off their allegiance to Great 
 Britain, they assumed the character of Spates. In that 
 character they were recognized by each other, and by all 
 nations. In that character they framed and adopted tha 
 Pederal Constitution, retaining in it the name of United 
 States. Important provisions of that instrument recog- 
 nize their continued existence as States, with the equality 
 of sovereigns, and with a large and undefined reservation 
 of independent powers. By the most solemn acts of Mas- 
 sachusetts and of other States, the sovereignty of each 
 State in the Union has been affirmed. Oar political and 
 judicial history is full of documents supporting tlie same 
 doctrine, associated with the fundamental principle that the 
 Gonstitution is a compact. The 
 
n O E B U C K . YS 
 
 pnfit, inherent in the States was not surrendered in 
 the Constitution. On the contrary, it was reserved 
 by Virginia in her ordinance to ratify the Federal com- 
 pact. 
 
 "If we ascend above Constitutions and historical docu- 
 ments to tlie sources of natural and eternal justice, a natu- 
 nil, inalienable, indefeasible right of self-governmeut be- 
 loniTs to great communities like these Southern States — 
 civilized, organized communities, capable of fulfilling the 
 duties of "a nation. This is a right which no constitution or 
 compact can annul, and no power can take away. 
 
 "Having the riglit, Virginia ought to secede. The Fe- 
 deral compact has often been nullitied or violated by many 
 of the Northern States, wilfully, wantonly, persistently in 
 matters vitally affecting the Southern States. The power 
 w])ich the North has acquired, and its persistence in 
 wrong, have destroyed all hope of redress in the Union. 
 Many acts of Northern aggression are fresh in your recol- 
 lection. Each one has been met with solemn protest by 
 the South, and every protest has provoked a new outrage. 
 I shall not now recite the long and dreary catalogue of ag- 
 gressions, for the most recent events demand our exclusive 
 attention. History will keep a record of all. 
 
 "The framers of the Federal Constitution guarded 
 against abuse of power by the government in every way 
 that their wisdom foresaw to be necessary ; for they knew 
 tliat all governments tend to tyranny. Tliey protected the 
 small States against the ambition of tlie larger. But the 
 problem of binding two powerful and unequal nations to- 
 gether under one government, without permitting either to 
 oppress the other, was not present to their minds. They 
 did not foresee that a confederacy of the most populous 
 States would be formed within the Union, constituting a 
 distinct nation, animated with the usual passions of nations, 
 and with animosity against the whole body of the States 
 not embraced in that Confederacy. But this is what has 
 happened. Tlie Constitution, so far from providing secu- 
 rity against oppression in such a case, has unintentionally 
 facilitated the design of the Northern Confederacy to op- 
 
74 ROEBUCK. 
 
 pres3 the South. By a oomblnation pursuing the forms of 
 the Conslitution, a m'mority of the people of the Union have 
 concentrated the whole power of the North anl seized the 
 government, electing a President upon principles so unjust 
 that he could not receive one Southern vote. Those who 
 persuade themselves that the dominion thus usurped by the 
 North over the South will ever be relinquished, or that it 
 will be exercised with justice, forget history and ignore 
 human nature. Since a Northern Confederacy has usurped 
 the authority of the Union for our oppression, we must 
 save our liberty by a Southern Confederacy beyond the 
 Union. 
 
 " If any doubt heretofore remained of the necessity for 
 this action, it must have been dispelled since the North has 
 claimed the right, through the Federal government, which 
 it controls, to reduce the South to obedience by arms, and 
 has drawn the sword for that purpose. We might easily 
 refute that pretension by Constitutional argument, but the 
 Bword can be answered only witli the sword. The framers 
 of the Constitution distinctly refused to confer on the Fede- 
 ral government the power to compel the submission of ^ 
 State by military force. The last President of the United 
 States officially disclaimed the power. It could not exist 
 without transforming our Federal system. It cannot be 
 exercised without establishing a militar}'- despotism at 
 Washington. But reason is silenced. The voice of can- 
 non, and not the voice of the people, must decide these 
 controversies. 
 
 " We must defend our sister States of the South. We 
 cannot be neutral. We will not make war against them. 
 Honor, affection, self-preservation, compel us to take arms 
 in their defence. If we are to fight we must secede. Un- 
 less the State resumes her separate existence, and reclaims 
 the autliority which she has granted to the Federal govern- 
 ment, her people will incur the penalties 'of treason by 
 fighting against that government. If she secedes^, she can 
 unite with the other Southern States and make their joint 
 resistance effectual. Her example will be followed by 
 States yet adhering to the Union. The formidable array 
 
ROEBUCK. 75 
 
 of all the Southern States may even yet deter the North, 
 and arrest the war. At all events, it -will assure success," 
 
 The address of Mr. Williams was heard with silent 
 attention. At the conclusion of it he proposed a re- 
 solution to declare the sense of the meeting that the 
 ordinance of Recession should be ratified by the 
 people. iThen there was a pause in the proceedings, 
 to aiford any who might wish to speak an oppor- 
 tunity. No one came forward until the chairman was 
 about to take a vote. Then Doctor Fairfax rose, and 
 with some trepidation in his voice, signilied a desire 
 to address the meeting. The solemnity of the occa- 
 sion and of the audience repressed his propensity to 
 sarcastic levity and braced his nerves — for he was a 
 raan of nerve — to the unaccustomed task of address- 
 ing a public assembly. He spoke thus .in sub- 
 stance : — 
 
 *' I am opposed to secession. I concur in the opinion 
 that we are now obliged to engage in war for the defence 
 of the South. War supersedes other controversies, and, 
 therefore, I shall not discuss the right of secession or the 
 causes of secession. Certainly, we shall be justified in se- 
 ceding, if secession is advisable as a measure of war. But 
 it is witii reference to the war that, in my judgment, se- 
 cession is not advisable. 
 
 "If we remain in the Union we may reasonably hope to 
 terminate this war with an honorable peace ; for we shall 
 fight upon no pretension that our enemies may not ulti- 
 mately concede for the sake of peace. If we seced;', we 
 can never return to the Union without a surrender of the 
 main point of contest — that is, without acknowledging our- 
 selves conquered. The North will never concede our 
 separate indcp^judence. The war must be fought to ex- 
 tremity, and, in the extreme event, the South will be sub- 
 jugated. By stakmg all upon a desperate venture, we 
 Bhall lose all. By moderating our preteusions, we may se- 
 
76 R O E B U C Iv - 
 
 cure important rii^bts, which inxy be respected hercaftcf, 
 beonnss Ave are ready to defend them with the sword. 
 If Vir:zinla adheres to the Union the States which have ai- 
 ceded may, under her example and mediation, rctara to it, 
 and there may be a peace lionorable to all. 
 
 ■"That the war, if prosecuted to extremity, will result 
 in our subjugation, appears to my mind painfully certain. 
 The fi2:hting population of the North is as three to one of 
 our own at the beginning, and with every hour of war tliis 
 disparity will be widened. E:nigration from Europe will 
 replenish the Xorth. All the adventurers, paupers and 
 vagabonds of the Old World can be hired to fight against 
 us. Casualties and the curtailment of our territory by in- 
 vasion, will diminish our numbers and uo- foreign supply 
 Mill restore them. We shall lose Delaware, Maryland, 
 Kentucky and Missouri certainly. AVar is in a large 
 measure a work of money and machines. The North has 
 both. We have neither. The North can soon set afloat au 
 unequalled navy. The South can have none. Commerce 
 will continue to enrich our enemies. We shall be cut oflf 
 from all the world beyond our own shores. The Federal 
 government has unbounded credit. Oar government must 
 establish itself before it can enjoy the credit through which 
 it should be established. Our vast rivers will divide our 
 power and admit the forces of the enemy into the heart of 
 our territory. With a population thinly scattered over an 
 immense area, we have no adequate means of concentrating 
 our wealth, our men or our polic}'. Natural and artificial 
 means of concentration, the most varied and complete, will 
 be in possession of the enemy and despotism will concen- 
 trate their policy. 
 
 We must not rely upon dissensions in the North. Poli- 
 ticians there have encouraged us to resist, aud have de- 
 clared that the army which marches to conquer us musi 
 first pass over the corpses of themselves and their partisans. 
 Trust them not. AVheu war rages we shall . not have 9 
 corporal's guard of determmed friends in that country. You 
 will see that even so bald a pretext as that the South haa 
 fired the first gun, so shallow a trick as that which drew 
 
ROEBUCK. 77 
 
 the fire of Confederate batteries on Fort Sumter, will con- 
 solidate the Northern populace in furious support of tlic 
 war. The North is dividctl into two parties, truculent Re- 
 publicans and truckling Demecrats. No party there will 
 act upon the obvious truth, that when liberty is attacked 
 wiih the sword it can be defeivled only with the sword. 
 After it shall be lost, through their aid or aipathy, some 
 Northern men may solicit j-our assistancj to rescue it from 
 nn iron tyranny by windy speeches and ineffectual votes. 
 But in the real struggle you will stand alone. 
 
 "Expect no aid from Europe. Imagine not that cotton 
 Is king, or that the necessities of commerce will bring En- 
 gland or France or any other power to intervene for our 
 benelit. Intervention must be war, or it must be futile. 
 The old nations, taught by experience, dread war and value 
 peace, Englisli cotton manufaclnrers, having excessive 
 stocks on hand, are now in a condition to be saved from 
 ruin by any event that will interrupt the exportation of cot- 
 ton from this country for the next three years. English 
 commerce will flourish by any war in which England takes 
 no part. English policy demands the abolition of slavery 
 and^he consequent abridgement of the cotton culture on 
 tbis continent — ends to be accomplished by the triumph of 
 the Noi-tli. Though a division of the Union may be desir- 
 able to her, as reducing a formidable power, yet the impover- 
 ishment of the South by war and the necessity of employ- 
 ing Northern force to keep a conquered people in subjec- 
 tion, may be deemed almost an equivalent. England will 
 stand aloof, and without her, no other power will inter- 
 fere. 
 
 *'I will not attempt to appal you by depicting the hor- 
 rors of war. It is not to cowardice tliat I would appeal, 
 l)nt to wisdom. Indeed I would invoke you to welcome 
 all tlic evils of the most terrible war, if through them you 
 can be assured of independence of the North. But we 
 should underslr.-.id, in advance, that this war wi'l probably 
 be waged agaii.st us in the most atrocious si)irlt. The 
 Federal government, treating us as rebels, will deny to us 
 the rights of war and the rights of humanity. Their hos- 
 
78 ROEBUCK. 
 
 tillties will be hivoc. It will scarcely be surprising if they 
 are lawless and barbarous enough to arm O'lr slaves against 
 ns. It is a mistake to suppose that secession will prevent 
 them from inflicting the penalty of treason on our soldiers. 
 Tliey will not respect tlie ordinance, and, if they refrain 
 from that outrage, it will be through fear of our power — 
 a motive that will operate equally with or without seces- 
 Bion. 
 
 "A war of prodigious extent, waged by a superior 
 power in a savage spirit, will finally exhaust the endurance 
 of the South. We shall, doul)tless, make one brilliant cam- 
 paign, through the superior courage of our people. Bat 
 they cannot sustain, for more than two years at the utmost, 
 the constant pressure of such tremendous odds. Virginia, 
 I trust, will endure, if necessary, until she shall be made a 
 wilderness. Doubtless in this great straggle she will bo 
 true to her ancient character. But do not expect other 
 Southern States to emulate her conduct. They will do 
 great doeds and suffer horrible afflictions before they will 
 surrender a good cause, but some of them will yield before 
 independence can be secured and long before Virginia will 
 be subdued. Her sufferings and her heroism will be in 
 vain. 
 
 " Whose imagination can fathom the depth of our degra- 
 dation when we shall have been subjugated by the North ? 
 The war upon us will never end. A people who hate us 
 now and who then will have been rendered furious by resis- 
 tance and arrogant by victory, will have irresistible power 
 to glut their hatred and revenge. They will hold the South 
 by a military tenure. Taey will be our masters. They 
 will be conquerers and we the conquered. Vce vic!i>t! 
 "We shall be ruled by satraps, great an 1 small. Oar gov- 
 ernnient will be dissolved, our laws annulled, our courts 
 suppressed. G;irrisons, perhaps composed of our own 
 slaves, will occup>y our towns to overawe a people who will 
 never again be trusted. It will not be sufficient for them 
 to submit peacefully to the authority of the conquerors; to 
 avoid suspicion and still sharper oppression, they must 
 fawn upon their tyrants and profess to be in love with tkeir 
 
ROEBUCK. 79 
 
 chains. They must hasten to sacrifice their institutions, 
 their civil rights, their manhood, in order to appease the 
 jealousy of foreign rulers. Their country will be for them 
 both a prison and a charncl house, and among the ashes of 
 their sons and brothers slain in the .war, tliey will brood 
 over the hopeless bondage which the war lias brought on 
 themselves. The soldiers who conquer us will be pensioned ; 
 those who defend us beggared. Not a voice in all the 
 North will then be raised to demand the restoration of our 
 people to their ancient rights. The most favorable treat- 
 ment proposed for them then by any Northern man of 
 influence will be so cruel that, if whispered now, it would 
 curdle your blood with horror. Those who will think that 
 our rebellious* people deserve hell will deem it mercy to 
 consign them to purgatory. But I desist ; I believe that no 
 fancy can approach the actual wretchedness of a proud, 
 brave, intelligent people, subjugated by such a power as the 
 North." J 
 
 When Doctor Fairfax sat down, Mr. Williams rose 
 again and remarked that if no other person desired 
 to speak he would make a brief reply to the last 
 speech. As no one else rose, he proceeded : 
 
 *' The right of secession has not been denied. That there 
 are sufficient causes for it has not been denied. That it 
 would render our resistance to the North more effective by 
 uniting the South has not been denied. That independence 
 of the North is the prize most worthy of our exertions when 
 we are compelled to fight is admitted. But we are to be 
 deterred from availing ourselves of these advantages of 
 secession. How ? You are told that we shall certainly bo 
 conquered. If this be true, yet subjugation will scarcely 
 be a fate more dreadful than the perpetual despotism to 
 which we shall baseJy submit by remaining in the Union. 
 At least, a gallant struggle for indepedence will save our 
 honor— the most precious heritage of a people. Bat it is 
 not certain that the united South. will be conquered by the 
 North. It is possible, but it is not even probable. We 
 shall stand on the defensive. We liave only to endure, and 
 
69 ROE B U C K . 
 
 time will exhaust the euemy. If our vast territory renclers 
 concentrated resistance difficult, it renders subjugition 
 impossible. The native courage of our people aud tha 
 spirit which the cause of liberty inspires will overcoaig an 
 immense superiority of mere numbers. Oar fertile country 
 ani our laboring population will feed and clothe our army, 
 80 that neither money nor foreign commerce will be so 
 necessary to us as to the enemy. Machines and navies aro 
 less needful to us than to our invaders. Our white popu- 
 lation can spare a larger proportion of fighting men -tlian 
 that of the North, because our blacks will remain to labor. 
 If so many millions of freemen, fighting to preserve their 
 liberty and resolved to sacrifice everything for independence, 
 shall be subjugated, the lessons of history are false. L3t 
 us not throw away the ricli prize of success through timi 1 
 apprehension of failure. This enterprise is dangerous. It 
 must put the endurance of all Southern people to severe 
 trial. Let them be sustained by the hope of indepeudeuce. 
 Since we must tight, we must incur tlie hazard of sabjiigi- 
 tion. It is vain to expect peace until we show ourselves 
 able to resist the North. For the sake of peace we have 
 vainly forborne, yielded, solicited, until we are almost dis- 
 graced. Since we must fight, let us fight for indepen- 
 dence." 
 
 After ascertaining that no other person desired to 
 speak, the chairman submitted the resolution to a 
 vote of the meeting. All the people responded 
 " aye," except five or six who answered '• no." Very 
 soon after the result was announced the citizens be- 
 gan to move out of the door, but the movement was 
 arrested by the voice of a boy who sat on a table 
 Avithin the bar, and who began to call out — " Marlin 1 
 Mariin! a speech from Abram Marlin I" Such a call 
 always finds an echo in a crowd. Severat voices took 
 it up and cried — -'jdarlin! Marlin! 3Iarlin !" The 
 eyes of the youth who led this chorus were fixed upon 
 a man who stood on the steps leading up to the judi- 
 
ROEBUCK. 81 
 
 cial bench with a leg and an arm over the banister. 
 He was dressed in coai*se but clean homespun. IIo 
 seemed about forty-five years of age. His person 
 was rather tall and lank. His features were rough, 
 and his hair hung down, long, straight and thin 
 around his neck. Under shaggy brows his grey eyes 
 had a restless, vigilant motion, as if the brain was 
 active and excitable. When the repetition of his 
 name became emphatic, though still apparently made 
 in jest, he withdrew his limbs from the banister and 
 walked up the steps. Standing on the judicial plat- 
 form, he turned his face to the audience with un- 
 moved self-possession. He then .began : — 
 
 " I ain't a gwine to make a speech, my feller-sinners. 
 I conkln't say much about that ere doctrine of secession. 
 It ain't one of the doctrines that I'm used to preach about, 
 I stick to the doctrines in the good book, and tlieni doc- 
 trines I always try to make so cl'ar that the women and 
 niggers can nuderstaud 'em. But I've been a ponderin' 
 over this ere war in the silent watches of the night when 
 my Betsy was f;\st asleep. I've looked up the prophets on 
 this subjec'. It rether looks to me like we're a gwino to 
 fight the great battle agin Gog and Magog. Leastways 
 that battle has never been fou't yit, and so it stands to rea- . 
 son that it's got to be fou't sometime. Now, in the thirty- 
 eighth chapter of Ezekiel,it is said unto Gog — 'thou shalt 
 come from thy place out of the North parts, thou and many 
 people with thee, all of them riding upon horses, a great 
 company and a mighty army.' So it stands to reason ef a 
 man always keeps a figlitin' agin the armies that come out 
 of the North parts, he'll be fightin' on the right side when 
 that big he-figirt of all comes off. So I've been a ponderin' 
 that I'd take a chance in this ere war agin the North. 
 Anyways it will be a fight for Virginny, and that's a good- 
 enough fight for me. Next to my God, I'd go my death 
 for old Virginny. I'm rether dubous that I'm too old and 
 rheumatized to mai-ch in the infantry, but ef I had a hoss 
 
 A* 
 
82 ROEBUCK. 
 
 I'd jine the calvary. I ain't got only one boss, and that's 
 a mnle. Ef any gentleman would swap a boss for that 
 mule" 
 
 "You shall have a horse," said a voice from the 
 crowd. 
 
 "Then count me in. Doctor Fairfax says the Yankees 
 will whip us. "Well, the doctor ain't a prophet, nor the 
 son of a prophet. Leastways I ain't seed his name thar 
 among the prophets. But one thing I kin tell you, and I 
 have Scriptur' for it, the Yankees, even if they have Gog 
 and MagQg to back 'em, can't prevail agin the Lord of 
 Hosts. Let us have Him on our side and we're safe, my 
 brethren, in peace or war, in this world and the world to 
 come. Ef we want him on our side now^ we must go to 
 war with pure hearts and in humble reliance on Him. We 
 must ask His blessing. Let us pray." 
 
 He knelt down, and stretched out his hands. His 
 sudden and unexpected movement, and call to prayer, 
 took the people by surprise. Almost involuntarily 
 they rose up and stood in reverential attitude, while 
 Marlin poured fourth a brief invocation, so fervent 
 that his grotesque language could not prevent it from 
 touching the hearts of men, and when he ceased a 
 solemn " Amen" was murmured iu all parts of the 
 house. 
 
 When the meeting was over it was found that a 
 sufficient number of volunteers had enrolled them- 
 selves to constitute a company of cavalry, according 
 to the laws of the State, and a time was appointed for 
 the election of officers. As it was near sunset, the 
 people began to mount their horses and start home- 
 ward. When Hugh Fitzhugh was about to pass out 
 of the green for the same pm-pose, a number of young 
 men smTounded him, and shouting his name, de- 
 manded a speech. The clamor drew others about 
 him, and men who had mounted their horses stopped 
 
ROEBUCK.- 83 
 
 or turned back in the street. When he reached tho 
 top of a stile he saw a large audience standing in ex- 
 pectation, and he found it necessary to say a few 
 words. He thus addressed the people : — 
 
 "Virginians: — By that title j'ou arc bound to noble 
 thoughts and heroic deeds. The time demands them now. 
 Discussion is ended. War is begun. The North has 
 pressed the South to the wall. We must defend" our 
 liberty, arms in hand, or be forever dishonored and 
 enslaved. If there is a man - among you who would 
 surrender liberty or honor in exchange for life, no 
 blood of Virginia runs in his veins. The war may be ter- 
 rific. The enemy is powerful and malignant. The soil of 
 Virginia may be crimson with the blood of her sons and 
 her foes. But her sons will bleed for the honor of their 
 mother. Invaders may give your dwellings to the flames ; 
 but your children will inherit freedom. When the war 
 shall be most dreadful, remember the alternative — bondage. 
 Look to the end — independence. Honor and shame — lib- 
 erty and slavery — choose between them. As you shall 
 choose, wear your fetters or your swords. Pardon me, 
 Virginians — I know your choice is made. You are re- 
 solved to live and die freemen!" 
 
84 li E B U C K 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 When the sun had set and all the citizens had left 
 the village, excejDt a i'ew who had qualified the spirit 
 of patriotism with the spirit of rye, three or four of 
 the latter class sat in the porch of the Swan Tavern, 
 upon a wooden bench against the wall. Before them 
 sat a young man on a large, split-bottomed arm-chair, 
 leaning back against the banister, with his feet ele- 
 vated. He was genteelly dressed, though his soft hat 
 was crushed and drawn down over a corner of one 
 eye. He was small and slender. His hair and mus- 
 tache w^ere black. His heavy eye-lids hung aslant 
 over the pupils, half closing them, and there Avas a sen- 
 sual, fieshy fullness about his lower jaw. His name 
 was Baxter. He was the son of a gentleman of high 
 character, who was the clerk of the County Court, 
 and had held the office more than thirty years. The 
 son had been carefully educated, and had in youth 
 shown quick parts and that forward pertness whicli 
 partial parents sometimes mistake for precocious genius. 
 When he grew up to manhood he led an idle, reckless, 
 dissolute life, studying the chemistry of juleps in bar- 
 rooms, the mystery of horse-flesh at races, or natural 
 history at faro-banks, called in slang " tigers." He 
 had dauntless courage and a sort of wit that made him 
 a favorite in low company. He was looking out from 
 under his heavy eye-lids at the faces before him with 
 an expression that might have been serious if he had 
 
ROEBUCK. 85 
 
 been sober, but as he was not, it was comical. At length 
 he said, abruptly — 
 
 " Bill Ankrom, I have been wondering why a fellow 
 like you volunteered to fight in this war. You would 
 oblige me by telling me if you know, yourself* 
 
 "To keep the Yankees from abolishing slavery, of 
 course." 
 
 " How many niggers do you own V 
 
 " None by . You know that as well as I do. 
 
 But if they set the niggers free, who'll be below me T* 
 
 " Nobody can be lower, I believe. You think, as 
 matters now stand, a white skin is a patent of nobility 
 granted by God and sanctioned by law f 
 
 " Something that a way, I reckon. Do you think I 
 want my son to black your boots or my darter to cook 
 in your f^xther's kitchen V 
 
 " Your theory is that society must rest on mudsills, 
 and if the black ones are torn away white ones must 
 be stuck under. You are a philosopher, Bill ; did you 
 know that ? It would be a pity that a Yankee bullet 
 should crack your craniology. But stick to your 
 patent of nobility — you have no chance to get another. 
 And you, Bob Faris, ai-e you going to fight for the 
 same reason V 
 
 " AYell, I ain't jined yit, but I reckon I'll go in for 
 the principles of free government." 
 
 " Bully for you. Bob. You call a Democratic gov- 
 ernment free, don't you V 
 
 '- Yes, I was born a Dimmicrat." 
 
 " Wouldn't you think me a fool if I went out to 
 fight for the privilege of having a batch of drunken 
 nincompoops like you fellows on that bench to govern 
 me ? That's your principle of free government. It 
 has brought us into a pretty muss in the United States. 
 
83 ROEBUCK. 
 
 We have tried to run a machine that can't go right 
 unless you make thii-ty millions of people understand 
 the art of government. It requires all those Yankees 
 away up in Maine to understand the interests of all 
 those Creoles away down in Louisiana. You see the 
 end of it, and now you want to fight for a free gov- 
 ernment of the same sort. You must be very drunk 
 to-day, Bob. Now, Sim. Franks, you ought to be a 
 soldier. Your skull is a life-insm-ance." 
 
 " You take care of youi* own skull. Why don't 
 -you volunteer f 
 
 " Oh, I intend to be a commissaiy. I want to be 
 in the eating and drinking department. I'll make 
 one big continental spree out of this war." 
 
 " I never thought you was a coward afore." 
 
 " Because I am not a coward, must I fight merely 
 for fun ?" 
 
 " I've seed you do it." 
 
 *• Well, here is fun," said Baxter, turning to look 
 into the street. Two men there sat on horseback, fac- 
 ing one another. They had the appearance and dress 
 of middling fanners. One had a red head and the 
 hair of the other was whity-brown. They had evi- 
 dently tasted the cup which does inebriate. Halting 
 at the same moment, they eyed each other with di*unken 
 defiance, and then engaged in a polite and obliging 
 conversation, which atti'acted the attention of Baxter. 
 
 " Sii*," said the man of fiery top-knot, " you must 
 excuse me, sir, but I have been credibly informed, sir, 
 that you said, sir, you would whip me, sir, the first 
 time you laid eyes on me, sir." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; yoiu* information is coiTcct, I am happy 
 to inform you, sir." 
 
 " If you are not blind, sir, you can lay eyes on me 
 now, sir." 
 
ROEBUCK. iJT 
 
 " If you will do me the favor to get off youi horse, 
 Bu*, I -will now do what I promised, sir." 
 
 " With great pleasure, sir." 
 
 Tliey dismounted, and giving their bridles to a ser- 
 vant from the tavern, took off their coats and squared 
 themselves for a duel of fists. They approached each 
 other with a parade of fairness and civility, thougli 
 with unsteady gait. 
 
 '' Now strike me, sir, if you please," said Whity- 
 brown. 
 
 " No, sir, you are under promise to whip me. sir. 
 Strike first, sir." 
 
 The man of threats accepted the invitation, and after 
 a flourish of fists, discharged a blow with all his might. 
 But he missed his antagonist and fell upon the ground. 
 
 " Get up, sir, if you please," said he of the red hair, 
 and he waited until his request was obeyed and the 
 other belligerent was ready for a second round. Then, 
 with more fortunate aim than the latter, he sent the 
 whity-bro wn head to the ground again. After look- 
 ing at him in the dust a moment, the other walked off 
 toward a grass plot beside the road, and said — " Come 
 here, sir ; that street is dirty, sir." The fallen belliger- 
 ent ai'ose and followed him. Then the fight continued 
 for some time with various fortunes, but as both Com- 
 batants were easily upset and neither would strike a 
 dangerous blow, very little damage was done. At 
 last, when both were weary, and the challenger or 
 threatener was down, his adversaiy stood over him 
 and said — 
 
 '• Now cry enough, sir ; I'm sm-e you've got enough." 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Then, sh*, you are dinink or a fool, sir. I scorn to 
 fight a man, sir, that's too drunk to know when he's 
 whipped, sir." 
 
88 ROEBUCK. 
 
 Having thus spoken, he ^yalked away toward his 
 horse, while the prostrate combatant called after him — 
 
 *' Maybe I'm too drunk now, but I'll keep sober at 
 next court. I'll thank you to meet me thenj." 
 
 Baxter and the other persons on the porch, who had 
 been amused spectators of the bloodless battle, now 
 descended into the street, congratulated the gentlemen 
 on the honorable termination of then* difficulty and in- 
 sisted that they should shake hands and be friends. 
 Baxter, suggesting a peace-maker perhaps on the prin- 
 ciple of an adage touching a " hair of the dog," urged 
 them to come into the tavern and take a drink with 
 him and his companions. Protesting against the 
 peace, they assented to the drink. Once in the bar- 
 room, the participants and spectators of the recent 
 conflict discussed that affiiir in such fashion that 
 another fight became imminent. Consequently ano- 
 ther cup of conciliation became necessary. So they 
 wrangled and drank or drank and wrangled, v>'hile 
 Baxter urged peace or war or whiskey, according to 
 his fluctuating humor, until darkness had long set- 
 tled down upon the village. 
 
 '• Here comes Blind Pete," exclaimed Baxter, as a 
 pale, thin man, led by a little boy, entered the bar- 
 room ; " come in, Pete ; we'll make you see stars 
 without your eyes. Take a drink." 
 
 The new-comer, nothing loth, condescended to 
 perform that ceremony of initiation, and while he 
 Avas imbibing the liquor, Baxter said : 
 
 " Who's your bail now, Pete ?'' 
 
 " Oh, sir, I always gives the best bail in the county." 
 
 " Yes, you go to jail like a rogue and are ransomed 
 like a gentleman, thanks to your blindness. Your 
 blindness is catching, or the gentlemen could not 
 
ROEBUCK. 89 
 
 wink so <at your rascalities. But who's your bail 
 now, Pete ?" 
 
 " Colonel Fred." 
 
 '* Why, it was for stealing his bacon they put you 
 in jail." 
 
 " That's the reason he was bound to attend to the 
 case. You see it was his own case, like." 
 
 " You are a lucky thief, Pete. If you had your 
 eyesight you would be in the penitentiary. But now 
 when you steal, all the gentlemen feel bound to let 
 you off, though you own land and steal for the love 
 of larceny. Whose corn is to load your cart to-night, 
 Petef 
 
 '• You always will have your joke, Mr. Baxter." 
 
 "I believe I will to-night. Where's your cart?" 
 
 " At the upper end of the village." 
 
 "And the blind mule with it? Ready, I suppose, 
 for your nightly tramp to collect provisions and forage 
 that the negroes steal and sell to you for whiskey." 
 
 " Night, you know, Mr. Baxter, is the same as day 
 to a poor blind man." 
 
 " Well, I am going to take » ride with you to- 
 night. Come along, boys. We'll escort you two 
 fighting horsemen on your way home. It is time 
 for you to go. We'll celebrate the restoration of 
 amicable relations between you by a nocturnal pro- 
 cession, with that red -head for a torch-light. Pete's 
 a dark lantern and shines only in corn-cribs and 
 meat-houses. Come on." 
 
 After one more drink they all sallied out into the 
 dark. When the horsemen had been helped into 
 their saddles, they all followed Pete to his cart. The 
 little boy, who was Pete's son, being young and puny, 
 was carried along by his father, because his tender 
 
so ROEBUCK. 
 
 rears and feeble health secured to him impunity like 
 that which Pete himself derived from blindnes.-^. 
 Baxter mounted the mule and ordered the rest of his 
 procession, except the two horsemen, to get into the 
 crazy vehicle. " '' Ilillo, Pete," he cried, " the spine 
 of this mule -will split my spine North and South, as 
 those other mules are splitting the Union. Why 
 don't you feed him better when corn costs you 
 nothing but the stealing? He has more ears on his 
 head than you ever put into his trough." However, 
 he adjusted his posture as well as he could to the 
 spinal ridge of the mule and began to belabor that 
 patient anim.al with a heavy stick which he had 
 picked up. " Go to the front. Torch-light," he cried, 
 *' the procession on wheels will follow." It did fol- 
 low, but at a slow pace, for the mule did not resent 
 the heavy thwacks he received. Baxter, hoping to 
 accelerate his gait, ordered his passengers to whoop 
 and yell in his rear. But the mule never wagged an 
 ear. With such freaks as dninken folly promi)ted, 
 they diversified the enjoyment of theh- snail-like jour- 
 ney, until at last they began to descend a hill. The 
 force of gravity was too strong for the knees of the 
 stubborn animal, and he started off at a trot, to keep 
 out of the way of the cart. Faster and faster he went, 
 while Baxter whipped and the cart jolted and bounced. 
 " Look out, boys," shouted Baxter, " I'm going to 
 make sausage-meat of you." This benevolent vrarning 
 was scarcely uttered when mule, cart and passengers 
 were tumbled c^rer in a promiscuous wreck at the foot 
 of the hill. "Halt in front! Bring us the torch- 
 light," cried Baxter. Upon a careful analysis ©f the 
 mass of animate and inanimate matter, it was discov- 
 ered tliat no person was hurt bevond some slight 
 
ROEBUCK. 91 
 
 bruises. A mule is more invtilnerable thnn Achilles. 
 The repairs of the cart cletaiiied the party some thirty 
 minutes. " I am glad it is no worse," said Baxter ; " I 
 thought I was sending you all to Baxter's Saints' Rest." 
 
 The procession moved on mitil the mule stopped 
 near a barn and refused to go farther. 
 
 " Whose barn is this, Pete V asked Baxter. | 
 
 " I can't see, Mr. Baxter." 
 
 " Neither can your mule see ; but he knows the 
 barn. Can't you tell whose corn you stole on this 
 road 1 I'm sure the mule got a bite here." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Baxter, I've been at so many places 
 
 with my cart " 
 
 ^ " Never mind ; I know this place myself now ; it's 
 old Palmer's. I see we must stop with him. Come, 
 boys ; let's rouse liira up. He is an old Yankee. 
 We'll make him drink to 'Jeff. Davis in some of his 
 own liquor." 
 
 " Agreed !" was the general response. 
 
 Leaving the boy with the cart in the road, the men 
 walked to the house, and at their noisy summons ft 
 servant, half-asleep, came to the door, and admitting 
 them, ushered them into the parlor, where they found 
 Mr. Palmer and his wife. Their daughters had re- 
 tired, but they were waiting for the return of Albert, 
 who had gone to a distant part of the county. When 
 they beheld Baxter and his retinue entering the parlor 
 they were astounded. They stood in expectation of 
 an explanation, which Baxter was rather slow to give, 
 for the unexpected presence of a lady somewhat 
 abashed him. In a little while he rallied, and advanc- 
 ing with an air that was meant to be both stately and 
 courteous, he offered the customary salutation to the 
 involuntaiy host and hostess. He added: "Mr. 
 
92 ROEBUCK. 
 
 Palmer, I was riding this way, and I could not think 
 of passing your house without dropping in on you, 
 indeed I couldn't. Knowing your liospitahle disposi- 
 tion, I invited my friends to come in with me. Let 
 me have the honor to introduce them." Ke proceeded 
 to call the roll, and appended to each name a brief 
 exposition, as thus : '* Bob is a champion of free gov- 
 ernment ; all he owns in the world is a principle, and 
 he values it accordingly ; he'd die for it. This man 
 with a bonfire on his head — this woodpecker has been 
 pecking that head there that looks like dead wood, but 
 now, you see, we are all birds of a feather and flock 
 together. This is a nobleman, and he carries liis 
 patent in his face, for it was once white, but the parch- 
 ment is now brown, which shows the antiquity of his 
 title ; he is descended from one of those old sea- 
 rovers who made a wharf on Ararat Avhen the water 
 was up, but it is not certain which of them, after 
 Koah, was his ancestor. This is Peter the Hermit ; he 
 lives a retired life in day-time ; he roams abroad at 
 night, because he stands on eyual rights, and he is 
 equal to any of us in the dark ; he has a way of equal- 
 izing property too, by the stai's " — and so on. 
 
 Mr. Palmei* bowed stiffly to the visitors and re- 
 quested them to be seated, he and his wife setting the 
 example. Baxter reclined at ease in a large arm- 
 chair. His followers remained standing. Presently 
 he said : '• Mr. Palmer, I was telling tiiese gentlemen 
 you were as hospitable as a lord." Either this hint 
 or the appearance of the guests, suggested to Mr. 
 Palmer that they had come in to be treated and that 
 the shortest way to get rid of them would be to treat 
 them at once. He said : '* Gentlemen, perhaps you 
 will do me the honor of takius: somethini2: to di'iuk 
 with me." 
 
roebuck:. 03 
 
 "Perhaps we Tvould," said Baxter, "I think ahout 
 ten drops of that fine old brandy n'ould be good 
 apjainst the night air." 
 
 When the host rose to have the liquor and glasses 
 brought in, the hostess went gliding out of the room. 
 Fluttered, if not alarmed, she had once or twice risen 
 to retire but resumed her seat. Her movements were 
 still rectilinear but rather spasmodic. When she 
 went out the small remainder of Baxter's diffidence 
 also departed. When the liquor came and began to 
 flow, his insolence llowed with full tide, " I like your 
 brandy. Palmer," he said, slapping that gentleman on 
 the shoulder, *' fill again." He enforced the precept 
 by his practice, and his companions, without much 
 urging, followed his example. Mr. Palmer would 
 willingly have refrained, but he still hoped that every 
 glass would be the last, and thinking it necessary to 
 keep the riotous crew in good humor by politeness, 
 he did not refuse to drink with them. " Take more, 
 old fellow, fill up ; I assure you the liquor is good," 
 said Baxter again and again. " Now, I'll give you a 
 toast. A bumper, Palmer. A bumper, everybody, 
 tag-rag and all. Here's the health of Jeff. Davis and 
 success to the Confederate States of America. You'll 
 drink that, old fellow." 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Baxter, with pleasure," replied Mr. 
 Palmer, and he drank with the rest. Throwing an 
 arm affectionately round his neck, Baxter said : " I am 
 glad, Israel, to find you are one of us. You must 
 volunteer, indeed you must. To your tents, O Israel. 
 You are no Yankee — d n the Yankees." 
 
 " Of course, Mr. Baxter, I go with my State." 
 
 "How's that'? Which State? None of your 
 Yankee tricks. You must have another diink. Fill 
 up. I have another toast to proposa" 
 
04 • K O E B U C K . 
 
 Wlien the glasses were full ho i)r.>posed — "d n 
 
 the Yankees." Mr. Palmer set -lown his gls^s and 
 said. •' you must excuse me, Mr. B:i>:ter." 
 
 ** What! turning Yankee on us?" 
 
 " Ko,'but," he added demurely, *'• I never curse." 
 
 "Are you there, Israel? I beg )'ardon. No gen- 
 tleman is obliged to curse : no gentleman ought to 
 curse, though profanity is not as bad as hypocrisy — 
 don't you think so, my jolly host? Well, I take back 
 the bad word and give you — down w*ith the Yan- 
 kees." 
 
 " I join you now M'ith pleasure, gentlemen," said 
 ^Ii'. Palmer. 
 
 " But it is time for gentlemen to retire," said Bax- 
 ter. " We have had a good time with you, Mr. 
 Palmer. Let us conclude with three cheers for Jeff. 
 Davis." 
 
 The cheers were given, and Mr. Palmer joined in 
 them. The irregular tumult of shouts roused the 
 ladies from their beds, and thus ]Mi'. Palmer became 
 guilty of disturbing his family at midnight with riot 
 and rebellion. The visitors then shook hands with 
 him and with each other, having a confused notion 
 that they were about to separate. Even Mr. Palmer s 
 thoughts began to thicken and his lips to grow purple- 
 He followed the unmarshalled aiTay to the door, and 
 iinding Blind Pete in the rear, plucked his sleeve and 
 whispered, '* come here to-morrow." He had some 
 previous knowledge of that darkling rogue, by repute 
 at least, and it suddenly occurred to him that his 
 l)eculiar qualifications might be rendered useful to 
 himself in times of confusion. 
 
 When Albert Palmer returned home that night, 
 discovering his father's condition and hearing of Bax- 
 
li O E B U C K . 
 
 06 
 
 ter's insolent conduct, he was mortified and eiira^od. 
 Long afterwards he showed his resentful recollection 
 ol tlic insult. 
 
 Baxter, declining to escort the two mounted men 
 further, turned the cait back toward the village. He 
 took a seat in it with the others, and gave the line by 
 which the mule was driven to the boy. Almost over- 
 come with liquor and fatigue, he nodded as they 
 jogged slowly along. But at the end of an hour he 
 roused hmiself up and said— "boys we ai-e consorting 
 with a thief, and my mind misgives me that he has 
 stolen something this very night whUe he has been in 
 our company. Our character is at stake. Pete must 
 be searched." That landed proprietor protested his 
 mnocence, but it was decided that a searc4i should be 
 made. His pockets were overhauled and very soon 
 one of the party exclaimed, "here it is— silver sugai-- 
 tongs." The article was drawn forth and recog-nfzed 
 as one which had been used to transfer some lumps 
 of Mr. Palmer's sugar from a sUver bowl to the 
 glasses which he drank. " J knew it," said Baxter . 
 "now, gentlemen, you shall sit as a jury in this case,' 
 and I'll be the court. To save time, I anticipate your 
 verdict and pronounce sentence. Pete must be hung 
 forthwith. If he goes to jail some gentleman of the 
 county will become bail for him and that wiU be the 
 last of the affair. Justice must not be balked any 
 longer. No bail here— he is taken in the manner— 
 iiang him up with his own line." 
 
 Pete was dragged from the cart; the line was tied 
 about his neck, and Baxter started to look for a tree 
 The criminal knelt, prayed, whined, wept, but his ex- 
 ecutioners seemed inexorable. The little boy cried 
 pitiably. The tree was found and the line passed over 
 
96 ROEBUCK. 
 
 a limb. By that time Pete lay ou the ground, incapa- 
 ble of speech or motion. "Now," said Baxter, "you 
 incorrigible scoundrel, you see the end of all your 
 crimes. Nothing can save your life but the mercy of 
 this honorable court. You have stolen corn by the 
 cart-load. You have carried away pigs, and choked 
 the innocent creatures lest their piteous cries should 
 reveal your theft. You have robbed hen-roosts, 
 treacherously tickling the toes of your victims to pre- 
 vent them from cackling. You have debauched the 
 niggers, wasting w^hiskey on theu* degraded revels. 
 Worst of all, you have pilfered the sugar-tongs of a 
 pious Puritan and compromised the characters of all 
 these gentlemen who had condescended to ride in 
 yom* rascally cart. What have you to say why the 
 sentence of death shall not be forthwith executed '?" 
 
 " Spare me, good gentlemen, and I'll never " 
 
 "Make no promises, Pete. Nature will break 
 them. You are a born rogue. But, with the con- 
 Beut of the jury, I will postpone this execution until 
 to-moiTow night, at twelve o'clock." 
 
 Pete sat up. 
 
 " More : we will let you go free of punishment al- 
 together." 
 
 Pete rose to his feet. 
 
 " But upon this condition. You shall go to Mr. 
 Palmer to-morrow, deliver the sugar-tongs to him, 
 and tell him that you stole them, and that we com- 
 pelled you to return them." 
 
 "I will, gentlemen, I will." 
 
 " I don't rely on your promise. But if you fail, 
 you shall be hung to-morrow night. If you do as I 
 command you, it will rest with Mr. Palmer to prose- 
 cute you, if he pleases." 
 
nOEBUCK. 97 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 POOR WinTES NEAR ROEBUCK. 
 
 WiiEx Abraham Marlin returned home at eveiiiug 
 from, the village upon his mule, he found his wife, 
 Betsy, prepai-ing the homely supper, his son Mark 
 closing up the cooper's shop, and his daughter, Eliza, 
 a buxom, red-c'heeked girl of fifteen, milking the 
 cow. Betsy, the wife and mother, was a woman of 
 laa^e, lean frame, with a square head and features 
 strongly marked. Plain tnith and decisive energy 
 were traced in every line of her countenance. Her 
 di-esg was coarse, though neat, and her large hands 
 were hardened by domestic industry. For forty 
 years she had known poverty without repining for a 
 single hour. She accepted hei- lot in life with cheer- 
 fulness, and encountered its diffi<;ulties with resolu- 
 tion. Her chief care, as it was her husband's also, 
 was to train up her children in habits of industiy and 
 vu-tue. The parents were both illiterate, but the es- 
 sential principles of a good life are learned without 
 research, and taught without books. 
 
 Abraham Avas received in his humble cabin with as 
 much respect and affection as if he had been the most 
 illustrious of men. After supper he related to his 
 family the events of the day at the village, but with- 
 out mentioning the part he had performed, except the 
 single fact that he had promised to volunteer as a 
 private in the company of cavalry. When he stated 
 
 5 
 
98 ROEBUCK 
 
 that circumstance, lie looked at his wife as if he felt 
 much anxiety to ascertain the impression it made on 
 her mind. He was accustomed to consult her about 
 eveiy impprtant step in life, but here was one, of the 
 last importance to them all, which he had taken with- 
 out knowing her opinion. 
 
 '' You've done right, Abraham," she pronounced 
 decisively. 
 
 ^ " Well, Betsy, I thought you'd say so, from our 
 talk last night, but I couldn't be easy in my mind till 
 I'd' tell you all about it, and hear how it would look 
 to you then." 
 
 '' You've done right, Abraham. It's very hai'd on 
 us, but you ought to fight for Yirginny." 
 
 " But, Betsy," he said with some hesitation, '• I've 
 got to furnish a hoss, and I've agreed to swap the 
 mule for one." 
 
 " We can't vrell spare the mule. But," she added 
 after some reflection, " the gTOund is nearly all 
 plowed. We must git along with the hoe and the 
 spade. It ^vill be more work, but we'll do it." 
 
 " I reckon you could bon-ow a mule sometimes few 
 half a day." 
 
 " YtVll work, Abraham, while you fight." 
 
 Dm-ing this conversation Mark was at first silent 
 and attentive ; then he became excited and even agi- 
 tated. He sat on a rough stool near the chimney. 
 Becoming restless, he rose and walked to the door ; 
 then he went back and sat down. His eyes fixed 
 M'ith eager interest now upon his father's face, and 
 now upon his mother's, attracted her notice. 
 
 " Well, Mark," she asked, " what are you thinking 
 about r ' 
 
 " Can't I volunteer too ?" he exclaimed with flash- 
 ing eyes. 
 
ROEBUCK 99 
 
 " God bless the boy !" said the mother, " if he was 
 a year or two older, ^ve might have two soldiers to 
 fight for our country." 
 
 " Older I "Why not now ? I'm big enough, mother ; 
 I'm strong ; I'm healthy ; I'm active. Why not 
 now ?" 
 
 This was the first intimation the parents had re- 
 ceived of Mark's vehement desire to become a soldier. 
 The certainty of war was too recent to have caused 
 much discussion in that secluded cabin, and he had 
 not disclosed to his parents his notion of fighting his 
 way up to the rank of a gentleman whenever a 
 patriotic Avar should occur. They looked at each 
 other in doubt, and sat revolving the question in their 
 mintls. At length Abraham said — 
 
 " Mai'k, it won't do for you and me both to leave 
 your mother and sister." 
 
 " If our country needs you both," said Betsy, *' I'll 
 take care of Eliza, and our Heavenly Father will take 
 cai'e of us all." 
 
 "I wish I w^as a man," exclaimed Eliza, "I'd be a 
 soldier." 
 
 " But, Mark, we ain't got but one boss," said the 
 father. 
 
 " Let's see, Abraham ; don't the government give 
 bosses to the cavahy ?" 
 
 " No ; I larn the way is for every man to fetch his 
 own boss, and the government to pay so much a day 
 for the use of him." 
 
 " Well," said Mark, after ruminating for a long 
 time on this obstacle, "I don't know how to get ano- 
 ther horse. But, father, if only one of us can go, 
 don't you think you had better stay at home and let 
 me go ? You will be of more use at home, and I can 
 stand a soldier's life better than you." 
 
100 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " You forgit, Mark, that I've promised to go. My 
 word is oiit." 
 
 " I had forgot tliat. I reckon I'll have to give it 
 up. Well, mother, I'll take care of yoii and Eliza. 
 I'll be of some use if I help tou to spare father for 
 the war. But if I only had a horse I" 
 
 The next morning Mark and his father were in the 
 little yard before the cabin, discussing a proposition 
 which the son had brought forward, to the effect that 
 he would volunteer for infantry service. Tne cavalry 
 was so much more agreeable to the taste and views 
 of the young man that at first he thought of nothing 
 else, and in the agitation of the previous evening it 
 had not occuiTed to him that he couldbe a soldier\vith- 
 out a horse. But it came into his mind at night, 
 while he lay in bed, wakefully turning the problem 
 that had baffled him inside out in search of a solu- 
 tion. In the morning, although extremely reluctant 
 to abandon the hope of serving in cavaliy, he an- 
 nounced his new plan. While it was under discussion, 
 Colonel Fairfax and his daughter Julia rode up before 
 the cabin, followed by a servant, who led a saddled 
 horse. They saluted the elder and younger Marlin 
 with cordial kindness, and when Mrs. Marlin, hearing 
 their voices, came out, they had many pleasant words 
 for her. After a few minutes had been given to the 
 chat of compliments, Colonel Fairfax said to Abraham : 
 
 " I heard of your remarks in the court-house yes- 
 terday, and of your offer to volunteer if you could 
 get a horse. I am too old to bo a soldier myself, and 
 I wish you to ride the horse I have brought, as my sub- 
 stitute. We have long been friends, and I hope you 
 will not refuse to use my horse. Lead him up here, 
 John." 
 
noKr»u(^rv. loi 
 
 " Thnnk von, colonel : you're mig*biy kind ; but I've 
 made a baro^ain for a, hoss." ' 
 
 '• I heard of that tpo. It wa^i when you offered in 
 the court-house to swap your mule for a horse, and 
 ponie one said you should have a horse. Bat your 
 fiunily cannot do without the mule." 
 
 '• My word's out, colonel." 
 
 " Who was the person who promised you the horse?" 
 
 " I don't know. I didn't see him. I jist hearn his 
 voice." 
 
 " Perhaps he will not come forward with the horse." 
 
 " Well now, colonel, do you think there's sich a per- 
 son in the county '? . Is there any slch a gentleman as 
 wouldn't make his word good ?" 
 
 '' We cannot tell. You had better make sure of a 
 horse. You will do me a great favor by accepting 
 mine." 
 
 '• I must let the man have the mule, colonel, ef he 
 comes up to his bargain, and then' I'll have a hoss ; 
 much obliged to you, though, colonel, all the same. 
 Ef he don't come I'll swap with you, that is, ef we 
 kin agree." 
 
 " Really, Abraham, T feel much disappointed. I 
 wish to do something for the war and for you." 
 
 While this conversation was going on, Mark eyed 
 the horse that was in want of a rider, while he was 
 in want of a horse, and his head was busy with the 
 question how these two wants might be supplied hon- 
 estly by one operation, beneficial to the cavalry ser- 
 vice. Julia had no suspicion of his desire to obtain 
 the horse for his own use, but she was always ready 
 to say a kind word to every one. 
 
 " Mark," said she, with her sweet smile, " you will 
 soon be old enough to fight for our country too, and 
 I ara sure you will be a gallant soldier." 
 
102 ROEBUCK. 
 
 *♦ T am oM rnough nou', Miss JiiIki.** 
 
 *' Are you ei^jhteen ? I .im told that is the proper 
 age." 
 
 " I'm only seventeen, ma'am, but I can fic,^l>t in a 
 good cause." 
 
 " You are a brave fellow, Mark. Do you bear h'mi, 
 papa V 
 
 " I do ; but vre must not let these brave boys go 
 into the army too soon. The countiy may need 
 them next year or the year after, and we must not 
 grind the seed corn." 
 
 " I believe I can stand the service, colonel," said 
 Mark. 
 
 " ])o you really wish to go as a soldier?" asked the 
 colonel. 
 
 *•' My mind is made up to go, sir, if my parents 
 consent." 
 
 '" But the authorities would not let a youth of 
 seventeen be mustered in." 
 
 " Do you think so ?" asked Mark, with surprise. 
 
 ." I do indeed." 
 
 "Then," replied Mark, after thinking a moment, 
 *' I'll go and fight on my own hook. Some of the 
 boys will let me mess with them, and I can always 
 get a gun when there is to be a battle." 
 
 "Ai'e you so resolved']" 
 
 •' I am resolved to be a soldier in this war." 
 
 " Have you a horse '?" 
 
 " No, sir ; for that reason I am going into the in- 
 fantry." 
 
 " Would you prefer cavalry service '?" 
 
 '■ Indeed I would, colonel ; I would like it above 
 all things." 
 
 " Then you shall have this horse, since your father 
 refuses to take him." 
 
• K O E B U C K . 103 
 
 ^ But I am not able to pay for him.'* 
 
 " I do not expect to be paid for him. You shall 
 accept him as a gift." 
 
 *' Thank yon, colonel, hut I cannot take him so." 
 
 " Why not, INIark ?" 
 
 "We don't accept gifts of such value when wq 
 can make no return. It is a rule I've learned from 
 my parents."" 
 
 *" Why, Mark," said Julia, " you are as independ- 
 ent as a — as" 
 
 "As a gentleman, you would say, maybe, Miss 
 Julia ?" 
 
 " But consider, papa wants to give the horse to the 
 public service, not to you alone. All his property be- 
 longs to our country at her need. You may surely 
 help him to use it for our common defence." 
 
 " In any way consistent with my .own honor — I 
 mean no offence. Miss Julia — I would be glad to 
 do so." 
 
 " Mark, you are an obstinate young fellow, and I 
 have a mind to quarrel with you." 
 
 " Not for being honest. Miss Julia ; not for being 
 independent. What are we to fight for but independ- 
 ence '?" 
 
 "Then let me sell you the horse," said Colonel 
 Fairfax, "you may pay me for him when it suits 
 you." 
 
 " But I may never be able. Would it be right, colo- 
 nel, to take credit without a prospect of being able to 
 pay ? I may be killed or die in the service." 
 
 " Then the horse will remain," said the colonel, half 
 provoked and lialf amused by these objections. 
 
 " Perhaps not," replied IMark, ^' and then you would 
 ^t nothing, or my father would distress himself and 
 
104 ROEBUCK. 
 
 pinch the family to pay you. There is no need of 
 taking these risks, colonel, for I can serve in the in- 
 fantry." 
 
 But Mrn'k could not repress a sigh, and Julia saw 
 glances exchanged between him and his mother that 
 expressed the chagrin of the boy and the sympathy of 
 tlie woman. 
 
 "Come here, if you please, Mrs. Marlin," she said, 
 " I think you and I can arrange this matter. Men are 
 so wrong-headed, you know. Mama owes you some- 
 thing for weaving?'' 
 
 '• Xot much. Miss Julia." 
 
 " But we shall want more weaving done." 
 
 *•' I have a piece of my own in the loom that I would 
 sell, Miss Julia." 
 
 '' Then consider it sold. Xow, there's your account 
 against us for weaving, and there's the price of the 
 piece in the loom, and there will be the weaving we 
 want. Mark, the horse is as good as paid for already. 
 Papa consents, your mother consents — don't shake 
 your obstinate head. Your mother shall not be dis- 
 tressed about the little balance that will be due for the 
 horse. You can send her yom* pay as a soldier, and it 
 will amount to the price of a horse before you have a 
 tempting chance to shoot or be shot at. Come, the 
 whole business is settled between you and me, is it not, 
 Mrs. Marlin ?" 
 
 '• Mother," said Mark, " do you think this would be 
 rghtr' 
 
 '• Yes, my son ; I think we mn.y do as Miss Juiia 
 says." 
 
 *' Then I accept the horse with many thanks to you, 
 colonel, and to ^Miss Julia." 
 ^ " Oh yes, Mai'k, the women aie worth more than 
 
ROEBUCK. 105 
 
 the men to carry on a righteous war. We have head?, 
 Mrs. Marlin," she added, laughing and shaking her 
 own pretty head. 
 
 " And hearts, too," said the colonel, smiling ; " but 
 now I must use what influence I can to have Mark ac- 
 cepted as a soldier." 
 
 When this sale had been negotiated with so much 
 jockeying and feminine art, and the price — made small 
 by more cunning mediation on the part of Julia — had 
 been agreed on, Colonel Fairfax and his daughter took 
 leave of the preaching cooper and his family. They 
 spent a great part of the day in riding about among 
 their poor neighbors, and distributing some of that 
 property which the colonel held as a trust, and of that 
 happiness which natures rich in cheerful goodness dif- 
 fuse like the fi-agrance of flowers. In the course of 
 their ride they called on Mrs. Fitzhugh, the mother of 
 Hugh, at Willowbank, her place of residence. It was 
 about two miles from Marlin's cabin, and if the reader 
 consents to make that little journey with them, we too 
 will go to Willowbank. 
 
lOo ROEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AVILLOWB.VNK. 
 
 The visitor, in .ipproaching the old mansion of Wil- 
 lowbank from the highway, caught a glimpse of the 
 white building through nimierons trees, Hecked with 
 the opening leaves of spring. Near the house a few 
 scattered sm-vivors of the original forest, such as the 
 great elm with triple tnink, the far-branching oak and 
 round-topped walnut, stood among large old trees 
 which, in the rings about their hearts, kept a calendar 
 of the age of the family which planted them. At the 
 foot of a sloping bank before the mansion gi-ew a 
 great weeping willow, with its long slender twigs and 
 dark green leaves dropping in stately sadness. 
 
 The house was a long building of two stories, 
 framed of wood, weather-boarded and painted white. 
 There was a wide porch along the entire front. The 
 old-fjishioned chimneys were built outside, and at each 
 end of the house. The rooms were large and the win- 
 dows small. In a wide hall at the middle of the build- 
 ing was a flight of stairs starting at one side of the 
 hall, and near the top, making a rectangular turn upon 
 a broad landing, with massive, square posts, heavily 
 capped. Over the spacious fii-e-pla<jes were high^ 
 wooden mantel-pieces, adorned with an infinity of 
 mouldings and with rosettes and other figures which 
 commemorated the taste of that Fitzhugh who erected 
 the mansion in the last centmy. It was then regarded 
 as a grand establishment, for it was finer than most 
 
ROEBUCK. 107 
 
 of its neighbors, and was the seat of one of the prin- 
 cipal fomilies of the coimty. Time gnawed silently 
 upon the Avoodwork, but in that community time 
 wrought few changes of ideas or social relations in the 
 lapse of only two or three generations. The family 
 i^etained its respectability, and the house was still re- 
 garded by all the county round as a grand establish- 
 ment, notwithstanding that, since a railroad was made 
 through the county, some antique notions had been 
 put to flight, and some more costly and elegant dwell- 
 ings had been erected in the neighborhood. The idea 
 of grandeur attached to the place descended as an 
 heir-loom in the family, excluding envy of modern 
 rivals and preventing projects of improvement. The 
 perfection even of the trees planted by a former gene- 
 ration, took its place among the domestic traditions, 
 and though new ones might have improved the pros- 
 pect, they could not flatter the pride of ancestry. The 
 old furniture was retained, under the influence of simi- 
 lar sentiments. The tall, square, eight-day clock in ] 
 the hall, with iron weights, brass, wheels and lunar I 
 face, could not give place to a modern time-piece, for it ' 
 had measured the ages of many members of the family, 
 second by second, from birth until death. The quaint 
 old bedsteads had^ been Avitnesses of the births, 
 bndals and deaths of several genemtions of Fitzhughs! 
 In the old presses were piles of liome-made coverlets 
 and gay silk dresses that would stand on end, with 
 other relics of the thrift or fashion of a primitive aris- 
 tocracy. A gourd hung over a cedar-bucket of di'ink- 
 ing water on a shelf at the back-door, but there was 
 silver in the side-board. The many old things about 
 the old house could not be exchanged for shining 
 novelties without rending the very roots of the family 
 tree. 
 
108 ROEBUCK. 
 
 As Colonel Fairfsix and his daughter saw Mrs. 
 Fitzhugh, the widowed tenant of this habitation, 
 walking in her garden with the support of a tall cane, 
 she might have seemed a feeble woman of sixty or 
 more, though she was several years under tliree score. 
 She was pale and thin, but her form was not bowed^ 
 and her features were strongly marked with lineaments 
 of pride. She had been fur many years a conhrmed 
 invalid. But a vigorous and cultivated intellect, with 
 indomitable will, resisted the inroads of disease, and 
 from year to yeai* she fought off death. The pride that 
 was written on her brow seldom escaped from her 
 tongue. It was neither boastful nor scornful. Within 
 her breast it was strong in all forms, but especially as 
 the pride of family. Her proudest and yet her weak- 
 est passion was her l6ve for h^er only son, Hugh. 
 
 The place on which she resided — a plantation of 
 considerable extent — ^tith. fifty or sixty slaves, de- 
 scended to him at the death of his father. The wid- 
 owed mother of an infant son, becoming sole guardian 
 of his person and estate, devoted herself thencefoith to 
 his nurture and education. She so managed his estate 
 as to keep it entu-e and wifhout debt, while defraying 
 the expenses of his education a^id travels, but a woman 
 and an invalid could do no more. Tiie slaves, missing 
 the authority of a man above overseers, became negli- 
 gent and some of them dissolute. The plantation 
 needed repau's, although the gi'ounds about the house, 
 being under the eye of Mrs. Fitzhugh, were kept with 
 taste and care. Hugh, first as an infant, then as a 
 student, and finally as a traveler, had been unable to 
 attend to liis estate in person, and after his retui-n 
 home, he neglected it. For two or thi'ee yeai-s he suf- 
 fered all things to remain or to go backward, as if he 
 
ROEBUCK. 109 
 
 were still absent, whilst he aiimsed himself with books 
 or hunting or fishing, or any idle sport that fell in his 
 way. Thas it was that the expectation of his friends 
 had been disappointed, and his name in the county 
 began to wear the stain of thriftless indolence ; for it 
 was thought that his inheritance imposed active duties. 
 His mother felt that he was sinking below the require- 
 ments of his name, and that the son of such ancestors 
 as his — ancestors whom her exaggerated family pride 
 ranked only a little below a line of heroes — 
 
 should imitate theii* useful and honorable lives. But 
 her afiection was too indulgent to chide him and she 
 could only wait, as she did, for the blood to show itself 
 When she found that the prospect of war had roused 
 his latent energy, and that he had volunteered as a 
 soldier, she suffered a violent conflict of emotions. 
 When he was to be exposed to the hardships and haz- 
 ards of war, a mother's love for an only child, her over- 
 weening care for the son whom she had reared so ten- 
 derly, and her lonely widowhood, which might be 
 reiidered utterly desolate by the loss of him, made the 
 sacrifice almost too giievous for her to bear. Yet 
 she Avas conscious that to see him remain at home in 
 ignoble sloth, while others less nobly obliged to duty, 
 according to her ideas, marched to the field, would be 
 intolerable to her pride. Then she exulted in the high 
 qualities which she attiibuted to his action. She was 
 proud to feel that the honor of his family was vindi- 
 cated in him. Her devotion to Virginia, second only 
 to her ruling passion, brought her patriotism to the 
 support of hfci- pride. Though every word was as a 
 drop of blood from her heart, yet with unwavering 
 resolution and tearless eyes she encouraged her son to 
 pm-sue the path which he had chosen. 
 
110 ROEBUCK. 
 
 When she entered the house and received her vis- 
 itors, she greeted Colonel Fairfax with high-bred but 
 rather antiquated coiu-tesy, almost too ceremonious foi* 
 friends so intimate. But she kissed Julia with fi-ank, 
 cordial, womanly warmth. '' How very glad 1 am to 
 see you, my dear Julia," she said , " you always make 
 me happy, and you, colonel, are kind and thoughtful 
 in visiting me to-day. I regi*et that Hugh is not at 
 home to see you, but he is absent attending to the 
 business that now engages his time." 
 
 *' Yes ; his new company," replied the colonel ; *' I 
 may well call it his company, for he has been most 
 energetic and influential in forming it, and from many 
 things which I heard yesterday, I am sure he will be 
 its captain. Men begin already to recognize in him 
 tjie qualities which they demand in their leaders — 
 decision, courage, ability. I congratulate you, my 
 dear madam, upon being the mother of such a son." 
 
 Mrs. Fitzhugh did not reply at once. The subject 
 itself excited feelings which she could not easily con- 
 trol, and the praises bestowed by her most esteemed 
 friend upon her son melted her pride. Tears filled 
 hev eyes, and in spite of her efiorts to restrain them, 
 one or two trickled down her cheeks. But she checked 
 them and she did not again, during this interview, 
 give way to maternal weakness. 
 
 " I trust Hugh will do his duty," she said at last 
 with a firm voice. 
 
 " I am glad," said Julia, " to see you able to leave 
 your room." 
 
 " This is no time to be sick, Julia," she replied ; 
 men and women, old and young, we are all needed for 
 the defence of Virginia." 
 
 " That is true," rem^-ked the colonel j " Virginia 
 
ROEBUCK. Ill 
 
 will be, no doubt, the chief battle-ground of this war, 
 and it may be a war of many battles. I hope we shall 
 be able to save our independence, but it must be at a 
 terrible cost. From the su[>erior power of the Korth, 
 the South must be by far the greater sufferer. We 
 must expect Virginia to be penetrated by inva.sion^ 
 and, perhaps, completely overrun. Our minds should 
 be prepared for unlimited sacrifice." 
 
 " Let it be unlimited then," said Mrs. Fitzhugh, 
 " if the North is cruel enough to exact it and if it is 
 necessary to secure our independence. I am ready 
 to begin with the dearest sacrifice a mother can 
 make." 
 
 " Unfortunately," replied the colonel, " I have no 
 son to offer to our country. But you and I and all 
 who have property must be prepared to part with it 
 freely. Even our homes may be lost for a time. Of 
 course, if invasion reaches us, many of our slaves will 
 leave us or possibly be enticed away. In other re- 
 spects, we may hope that those who have been our 
 brethren will conduct the war against us according to 
 civilized and humane usage, but in respect to slaves, 
 the origin of the war leaves no probability of forbear- 
 ance." 
 
 " Your servants, colonel, will not leave you surely, 
 so well treated and so judiciously ruled have they 
 been. How can they be better off?" 
 
 " Yet many of tliem doubtless will hasten to the 
 untried pleasures of freedom. They are easily de- 
 luded. If I thought them capable of judging wisely 
 for themselves, I would not feel justified in holding 
 them as slaves." 
 
 " I cannot consider them so ungrateful or so un- 
 wise." 
 
112 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " We shall see. But if we hold nothing too dear 
 to be given up for the sake of independence, no mis- 
 fortune of war can dismay us." 
 
 " No Yii-ginian, I am sure," said Mrs. Fitzhugh, 
 " will hold any species of property too dear/* 
 
 " At least the women," added Julia, " must not 
 shrink from the sad duties which war imposes on our 
 sex. But, even yet, I hope and pray that some gleam 
 of goodness or impulse of remorse will avert the 
 doom of bloody conflict from our country." 
 
 " Well, Julia, you must not forget your old friend 
 when war shall leave me lonely. Visit me often, and 
 whenever you are with me I shall see sunshine in a 
 shady place. Come, I will not frighten you away 
 with my cloudy mood. Let me show you my flowers, 
 though few of them are out yet. You shall be as 
 sunshine to my garden, my sweet favorite. There's 
 a speech you would rather hear, perhaps, from some 
 gallant cavalier. But come along, let us be happy 
 among flowers while we may." 
 
 The walk among the flowers, with gay garden 
 talk, whiled away half-an-hour, in which the high- 
 spii'ited old lady became lively and her visitors fell in 
 with her cheerful humor. 
 
KG E BUCK. 113 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 •THE V O I. U N T E E R 3 
 
 When the company of cavahy was organized by 
 the election of officers, Hugh Fitzhugh was chosen 
 captain. The company numbered about a hundred, 
 of whom a majority were young gentlemen, but men 
 of all classes were included. There was one recruit 
 whose name did not appear upon the muster-roll. 
 Doctor Fau-fax was resolved, as he said, to have a 
 hand in tlie fight. But he conceived that, at his age, 
 he might be excused from the rigid performance of all 
 the arduous duties of a private soldier. He pro- 
 posed, therefore, to conduct the war, for his own part, 
 at his own cost and charge, as an independent volun- 
 teer, not enlisted, but under the command of Captain 
 Fitzhugh. When he proposed this arrangement to 
 the captain, that officer thanked him for the honor 
 which it implied, but urged the doctor to permit his 
 friends to procure an appointment for him which 
 would enable him to be more useful, with less fatigue 
 and exposure. But this suggestion v/as flatly rejected 
 by the belligerent doctor. He declared that his sole 
 purpose was to fight " the Yankees " in the most 
 direct manner, hand to hand and to the death. Be- 
 sides, he was going in free for a free fight, and would 
 not endm-e the trammels of official obligation. The 
 captain acceded to the arrangement, but he asked, 
 with a smile — 
 
114 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " How is it, doctor, that you plunge headlong into 
 t]\e war, while you preach the policy of peace V 
 
 " The chance of shooting at a pack of Northern 
 wolves, captain, would tempt any man from his con- 
 sistency. But you know I ara really not inconsistent." 
 
 " You think the South is wrong in its present atti- 
 tude ?" 
 
 " Xot wrong, but rash, captain." 
 
 *' You believe that we shall be beaten." 
 
 *' A good reason for going into the war. Help the 
 weak — always help the weak. When we are con- 
 quered it will be the misfortune of the South but the 
 crime of the North. Let me share the misfortune 
 rather than the crime." 
 
 '• Your heart is right, doctor, but I trust you are no 
 prophet." 
 
 And now everybody manifested a lively interest in 
 the new company. County pride, the popular- delight 
 in military parade , personal regard for volunteers who 
 were kinsmen, neighbors or friends, and the con- 
 tagious excitement of the young soldiers, fanned the 
 patriotic feeling into a flame of enthusiasm. Enthusi- 
 asm carries with it an assurance of victory. The gen- 
 eral excitement became exultant, joyous. Every one 
 hailed his neighbor as a brother. All were sons of a 
 State, which all loved v>'ith filial devotion. The citizens 
 regarded the volunteers with a kind of generous envy, 
 as fortunate champions of a sacred soil and a glorious 
 cause. Virginia — the South — Liberty — Independence 
 were words in every mouth, and they sent every man's 
 blood bounding along his veins. Women, always 
 prone to sympathy, to social affection and to generous 
 and patriotic emotions, became even more enthusiastic 
 than the men 
 
' ROEBUCK. 115 
 
 It wag necessary that the company should bo ready 
 for active sei-vice as soon as possible. To this end, not 
 only the officers and the volunteers but the citizens of 
 both sexes applied themselves with alacrity and indus- 
 try. The men were to be clothed, equipped and 
 mounted. Tents and wagons were to be supplied. It 
 was known that the government could not instantly 
 furnish all the military apparatus needed for the nume- 
 rous army which was spontaneously springing into 
 existence throughout the State. Moreover the citizens 
 coveted the privilege of supplying their own companies 
 not only with things needful but with articles of 
 superfluity — articles which must be abandoned in the 
 first active campaign. Colonel Fairfax presented to 
 the company sufficient cloth of cadet grey to make all 
 the uniforms, and canvass enough for their tents. 
 Other wealthy citizens emulated his liberality, either to 
 the same company or to others then in process of for- 
 mation. To make up the clothing of the volunteers 
 all the women, black and white, brought then- needles 
 into play. For these various pm*poses the men formed 
 themselves into committees, and the women met in 
 societies. As Julia Fairfax showed herself not less 
 generous among her sex than her father among men. 
 Roebuck became a great workshop, over which she 
 pi-esided. Many young ladies assembled there daily, 
 and with the help of servants, performed the work of 
 seamstresses or tailors. As the lively spirits of the 
 young lighten their labors, the tongues of these maid- 
 ens kept time with plying needles, and the click of 
 sewing-machines mingled with the laughter of girls. 
 The gallant defenders of theii- country could not 
 neglect a patriotic establishment engaged in their ser- 
 vice, and so the ladies were often favored with the 
 
116 ROEBUCK. 
 
 counsel and assistance of the young men. It might 
 happen there that the Power who ** rules the couit, 
 the camp, the grove," sometimes hirked in the tan- 
 gles of a skein or barbed the point of a needle. 
 
 The official duty of Captain Fitzhugh of course car- 
 ried him to such places, and he did not fail to inspect, 
 now and then, the work over which Julia Fairfiix 
 presided. Between her and himself there was a new 
 bond of sympathy in the ardent patriotism which ani- 
 mated both. His eloquence was kindled by themoa 
 which warmed her heai't Perhaps he was proud to 
 show her that his life was not idly wasted when he 
 found an object worthy of earnest efibrt. Perhaps 
 she felt that his awakened energy was in some degree 
 a flattering tribute to her influence. The fiery agita- 
 tion of the time, too^ tended to inflame all sentiments 
 into passions. Friendship, cherished since childliood, 
 might be quickly kindled to a warmer sentiment 
 when sympathy and circumstance conspired to fan the 
 flame. But if their intercourse during a few days of 
 burning patriotism imparted a passionate glow to the 
 friendship between Hugh Fitzhugh and Julia Fairfax, 
 the^' did not acknowledge it to themselves or to each 
 other. Duty, paramount ovei' selfish aims, ther 
 engaged then* thoughts. 
 
 When the company was ready for the march a vast 
 crowd assembled at the village to take leave of the 
 volunteers. Men and women on the court green, in 
 the street, afoot, on horseback, in carrmges, every- 
 where, jostled one another to get a sight of the gay 
 troop in new uniforms and on sleek, high-mettled 
 horses, bound to the w^ar. A neat valedictory speech 
 was delivered by Mr. Williams on behalf of the citi- 
 zens. A blessing was invoked by the Rev. Mr. 
 
ROEBUCK. 117 
 
 Ambler. Cheers were given by the multitude and 
 answered by th« vohmteers. Hats were tossed up 
 and crrey caps waved in return. Hundreds of negi'oes, 
 imitative patriots, on the outskirts of the crowd, 
 grinned and babbled and laughed and shouted with 
 uncontrollable enthusiasm. From all the porches, 
 windows and carnages, and from the court gi'een, white 
 handkerchiefs fluttered incessantly. Under all the 
 clamor of cheers an attentive car might have heard the 
 sobs of mothers. Tears bedewed the cheeks of sis- 
 ters, but their liandkerchiefs were used, not to dry 
 their eyes, but to wave encouragement to their brave 
 brothers. There were pride, joy, anguish and devo- 
 tion in that farewell. It was not surprising that the 
 captain and his friend, Julia, each felt an unusual pal- 
 pitation of the heart when they waved their final 
 adieu . 
 
 The entire march of the company to the scene of 
 war was a popular ovation. The roads were lined 
 with men, wom^n and children, black and white, wav- 
 ing hats and handkerchiefs, clapping hands, cheering 
 and offenng refreshments. Whenever the company 
 halted the people flocked around, to tender congratu- 
 lation, welcome and hospitality. They contended for 
 the privilege of entertaining every private soldier, as 
 well as the officers, in their houses. No cottage was 
 too poor to solicit such guests. No mansion, nor bed, 
 nor furniture could be too luxurious for the use of 
 those dusty horsemen. No food was too delicate, no 
 wine too costly to be set before them. Even their 
 servants rejoiced with African glee in the abounding 
 hospitality which they shared. When the company 
 marched on, the gentlemen of the county escorted 
 them for miles over dusty or miry roads. Banners 
 
118 ROEBUCK. 
 
 were presented to them by processions of ladies, and 
 speeclies addressed to them, full of gi'ateful praise and 
 eloquent with martial and patriotic fervor. They fell in 
 with other companies marching to the field and saw 
 the people everywhere engaged in volunteering or 
 preparing volunteers for service. The country wets 
 unanimous for war and independence. 
 
 In the meantime other companies were formed in 
 the county for the different arms of the service. There 
 was talk of forming one under the auspices of Albert 
 Palmer — not of cavalry but of infantry. He had been 
 requested by some of the young men to volunteer in 
 the company which was now commanded by Captain 
 Fitzhugh, but he evaded the request. He professed 
 to think that, as cavalry was a favorite arm, his assis- 
 tance was not needed in that direction, and that since 
 many who were willing to become soldiers could not 
 afford to furnish horses, he could be more useful in 
 raising a company of infantry. He talked a great 
 deal on that subject. He rode over the county. He 
 drew up a paper to be signed by volunteers. He 
 procured a few signatures. He made this his osten- 
 sible business for several weeks. Either he was not 
 quite in earnest or his influence was limited. The 
 number of his signatures ceased to increase, though 
 other companies were filled up until the county had 
 furnished more volunteers than it contained voters. 
 His project, however, was a decent apology for re- 
 maining at home, while he declaimed as a zealous 
 Southerner and took part in proceedings designed to 
 promote the war. He consulted with committees. 
 Ho visited the patrrotic societies of ladies: He talked 
 of nothing but war. 
 
 He was particularly regular in calling at Roebuck, 
 
ROEBUCK. no 
 
 always expressing the deepest interest in the work 
 of the ladies who assembled there, and seeking occa- 
 fiious to converse with Miss Fairfax. When the work 
 was finished lie continued to visit Roebuck with equal 
 regularity. From day to day his attentions to Miss 
 Fairfax became more pointed. At length the motive 
 of them could be no longer misunderstood. He was 
 a lover, almost declared. When Julia made this dis- 
 covery she was surprised and embarrassed. She re- 
 spected him as a friend, and would wilUngly have 
 spared him the pain of a distinct refusal. She en- 
 deavored with delicate tact to discourage his suit 
 without mortifying his pride. But in view of ulterior 
 plans, he was resolved that, in this afiair, there should 
 be neither uncertainty nor delay. It became appa- 
 rent that he would not be diverted from pressing his 
 suit to a speedy and decisive issue. At length, seiz- 
 ing an opportunity when she could neither avoid hun 
 nor evade his addresses, he offered her, with studied 
 grace of manner and polish of words, his heart and 
 hand. If she had been less agitated by the distress 
 of inflicting pain, she might have inferred from his 
 polite self-possession during the scene that his heart 
 was not to be broken by any decision she would pro- 
 nounce. But, with modest and considerate gentle- 
 ness, she signified to him that, wliile he had her es- 
 teem, she could not reciprocate the sentiments which 
 he had done her the honor to express. He did not 
 leave her until he ascertained, to his own perfect con- 
 viction, that it would be useless to renew his suit. 
 Then, with the same urbanity of style, he expressed 
 his disappointment and regret, and afterwards bade 
 her adieu. 
 The next day he started to Richmond. Upon his 
 
120 ' ROEBUCK. 
 
 retTivn from the capital he informed *his parents that 
 he was a quarter-master, with the rank of captain, and 
 that iie liad made a satisfactory arrangement with a 
 slave-dealer in the city to sell Mr. Palmer's negroes 
 there at auction. He had been assigned as quarter- 
 master to the regiment of cavalry which included 
 Fitzhugh's company. Young Baxter had been ap- 
 pointed a commissary with the same rank, and was 
 assigned to the same regiment. Mr. Palmer, the 
 elder, expressed nis satisfaction with all that had been 
 done by his son. He had but consummated plans 
 previously settled in tamily council. The iather had 
 solicited an inliuence at the capital to procure the ap- 
 pointment ot quarter-master; an appointment com- 
 mended by safety and profit ; sn office which would 
 serve to identify Albert with the Southern movement, 
 and yet would not expose him too conspicuously to 
 Northern vengeance, in the event of adverse fortune. 
 
 When the quarter-master afterwards repaired to his 
 regiment, he had not forgotten the conduct of Baxter 
 in his father's house. Neither did he regard Captain 
 Fitzhugh without resentment. He had watched with 
 jealous eyes some of the interviews between the cap- 
 tain and Julia at Roebuck, and after the rejection of 
 his suit, he concluded that he owed his discomfiture 
 to the preference awarded to that rival. As the project 
 of marriage had been a key to his principal plans with 
 reference to the war and to his future prosperity, he 
 could not forgive the suspected author of his disap- 
 pointment. But these feelings were unknown to 
 Baxter and Fitzhugh, and they gave him a fiiendly 
 reception. 
 
ROEBUCK. 121 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 3IANASSA. 
 
 This narrative is not designed to be a chronicle of 
 military events, and it passes now to the first battle 
 of Manassa, only for the purpose of gathering up some 
 incidents' which affected the fortunes of persons who 
 have appeared to the reader. That battle, it is well 
 known, was fought on a hot day of July, in the year 
 eighteen hundred and sixty-one, between two con- 
 siderable armies, of which the Federal was twice as 
 numerous as the Confederate. In arms and all equip- 
 ments the superiority was also with the larger host. 
 The skill of the Northern generals, as displayed on 
 that day, was not inferior to that of their adversaries. 
 The Federals advanced to the attack, confident of suc- 
 cess. Afler a severe conflict of several hours, victory 
 was achieved by the undisciplined valor of the South- 
 ern volunteers. Then followed such a rout, disper- 
 sion and flight of the Northern army as would have 
 been ludicrous if so much suffering and teiTor could 
 ever provoke a smile. 
 
 During the engagement but little use was made of 
 cavalry. Captain Fitzhugh's company was for a time 
 posted in a ravine, where they were somewhat shel- 
 tered fi'om the direct fire of the enemy, while awaiting 
 orders or opportunities for action. In this position, 
 inactive and unable to see the course of the fight, 
 while the roar of battle was deafening, Doctor Fairfax 
 became extremely impatient. He was eager to be 
 
 6 
 
122 ROEBUCK. 
 
 vv'here bloAvs were dealt and taken. With his blood 
 at fever heat, he chafed at fortune, which denied hiin 
 an active part in the grand and exciting drama. When 
 a report came that the brigade of his friend. Brigadier 
 General Bee, was pressed and in danger of being over- 
 whelmed by superior numbers, he could endure in- 
 action no longer. He applied for permission to offer 
 his services to that gallant officer, and it was granted. 
 He found that the situation of Bee's brigade was ex- 
 tremely critical, and that every officer of the general's 
 staff was killed, wounded or unhorsed. The general 
 desired him instantly to ride off with an importu- 
 nate message to be delivered to General Beauregard. 
 
 The doctor started at high speed through a tempest 
 of shot and shell in which it seemed impossible for a 
 man or horse to live a minute. He had not gone far 
 when he was obliged to check his horse to avoid a 
 number of men Avho were bearing Brigadier General 
 Bartow, mortally wounded, a short distance to the rear 
 of his shattered brigade. He heard that brave and 
 able man request those around him to lay him down 
 and return to assist and encourage his men. " Look," 
 exclaimed the dying Bartow, " look at those Virgi- 
 nians under Jackson, standing like a stone wall.'' The 
 doctor's attention, as he passed on, was thus directed 
 to that nntlinching brigade of Virginians, and he saw 
 the tall, angular form and handsome featm-es of Jack- 
 son, as he sat upon his horse immovable, with nothing 
 but the gleam of his eyes to indicate the fiery energy 
 which then reposed, like latent lightning. He and his 
 brigade were from that day known by a name derived 
 from the exclamation of Bartow ; but not until long 
 afterwards did even his own countrymen recognize iu 
 Stonewall Jackson the first militai-y pjenius on the coii- 
 tiuent 
 
ROEBUCK. 123 
 
 With some difficulty, and after once riding almost 
 into the enemy's lines, the doctor found General 
 Beauregard, and delivering the message and receiving 
 a reply, he returned to find General Bee ; but he had 
 been killed. Seeking his successor in command, 
 amidst the hail of bullets and the contusion of broken, 
 but unyielding ranks, the doctor delivered to him the 
 communication, and at that moment his own horse 
 was shot. Being then dismissed to his proper com- 
 mand, he made his way afoot to his company. He 
 called out as he approached — " there is glorious ex- 
 citement up there, boys. But the infernal Yanks 
 have killed my horse. I must have another." 
 " What's this f asked one of the men, pointing at the 
 doctor s feet. Casting down his eyes, he saw blood 
 running from one of his legs. He drew off his boot 
 and found that he had received a flesh wound, of 
 which until then he had been unconscious. " Now," 
 he grumbled as he eyed the spot, *• I Avonder if that 
 Yankee expected to make veal of me by butchering 
 my calf" Chuckling over his pun, he called for two 
 or three handkerchiefs and bandaged his wound. He 
 then renewed his demand for a horse. " No, no, my 
 good fiiend," said the captain, " you must not mount 
 again to-day." This prohibition was soon enforced by 
 the loss of blood. The doctor became fiint, and lay 
 down upon the ground. He revived, but had to re- 
 main there until the battle was over. 
 
 When the day had been won. Captain Fitzhugh's 
 company was sent, with other cavalry, in pursuit of 
 that panic-stricken mob which had so lately been an 
 army with banners. The pursuit was a chase. Little 
 resistance was encountered. The most frequent im- 
 pediments were abandoned wagons and other wrecks 
 
124 ROEBUCK. 
 
 of a ruined host. Yet a chance shot hroke the left 
 arm of Captain Fitzhugh. He continued, neverthe- 
 less, to lead his men, gathering in prisoners and scat- 
 tering still more widely and wildly the elements of 
 that disastrous rout. When it was almost night, he 
 discovered that some preparation had been made for 
 resistance at a place where the road passed between 
 swamps and thickets, so that it was a mere defile. On 
 a little eminence which commanded the defile a piece 
 of artillery was pointed in the direction of the pursu- 
 ing cavalry. A Federal captain, finding an aban- 
 doned piece there, had collected about a hundred 
 stragglers, and made dispositions to check pursuit. 
 The number of men with Captain Fitzhugh at that 
 time did not exceed twenty, the rest of his company. 
 having been left in charge of captives. Halting a mo- 
 ment to ascertain the state of afifairs in his front, he 
 dashed forward at the head of his little band. The 
 Federal officer discharged the piece with his own 
 hand, and the gi-ape killed one and wounded two of 
 the Confederates. There was not time, if there was 
 ammunition at hand, to load again. The captain en- 
 deavored to hold his men firm to repel the cavahy, but 
 disheartened by the general rout, they broke and fled. 
 He stood alone, armed only with his sword, and dis- 
 daining to fly or surrender, seemed determined to sell 
 his life as dearly as possible. He fell, dangerously 
 w^ounded by a pistol-shot, and the cavalry rushed past 
 him. 
 
 Galloping on, they overtook an ambulance, in which 
 were two or three civilians, who had come upon the 
 field to be spectators of the grand Union victory 
 which, on the morning of that day, the entire North 
 had expected. Whipping and shouting, they urged 
 
ROEBUCK. 125 
 
 the horses to their utmost speed, and the ambulance 
 was bounding from side to side. At its tail hung a 
 pedestrian, and as be ran or was dragged along with 
 his skirts flying, he begged the other fugitives to take 
 him into the vehicle. But he lost his hold, and fell 
 just when the Confederate captain came up, and un- 
 able to check his horse, rode over him. The terrified 
 occupants of the ambulance, seeing cavalry so close 
 upon them, leaped out and scampered across the fields. 
 Their horses then stopped. 
 
 As it was growing dark. Captain Fitzhugh halted 
 and turned back, taking with hiqi the captured ambu- 
 lance. When he returned to the man who had fallen 
 under his horse's hoofs, that person still lay prostrate 
 on his face, affecting to be dead. One of the Confed- 
 erates, dismounting, and finding him to be alive, with- 
 out a visible wound, turned him over and commanded 
 him to get up. " O Lord, don't kill me ; I am a non- 
 combatant," he bellowed. '• I can see that in the 
 dark," replied the Confederate soldier, " but you must 
 get up and go with us." The captive, then, discover- 
 ing the ofiicer, cried — " Captain — Colonel — General — 
 I don't know your stripes, but whatever you are, I ap- 
 peal to you as an ofiicer. Don't let them murder me. 
 I am only a poor newspaper devil. I am Bombyx, 
 army coiTespondent of the ' New York Comet.' My 
 name is Campbell. I just came here to pick up a 
 few items. Oh, spare my life. If you do, I'll give 
 you a first-rate notice in my next letter to the 
 
 * Comet.' I'll say the reb— the South has gained the 
 day. I'll say you gained it yourself. I'll say you 
 killed a hundred men with your own hand. Indeed I 
 will. I'll write anything if you spare my life. The 
 
 * Comet' has the largest circulation of any paper in 
 
126 ROEBUCK. 
 
 New York — power-press, with the latest improve- 
 ments — tremendous advertising — immense subscrip- 
 tion list — O, don't let me be* murdered. Poor 
 Bombyx !" 
 
 " Is the fellow hurt ?" inquired the captain. 
 
 *' Xo — yes, I think I am — I'm lame here — a dozen 
 hoi*ses tramped on my leg." 
 
 " Take him up and put him into the ambulance." 
 
 When they moved on, " now," said Captain Fitz- 
 hugh, '• we must look after that brave officer who fell 
 by the gun. I fear he is badly wounded, if not 
 killed." They found him indeed living, but nearly 
 dead. Lifting him carefully and tenderly, they laid 
 him in the ambulance. Afterwards they took up the 
 body of their comrade who had been killed, and one 
 of those Avho had been wounded, the other being able 
 to ride his horse. With these and a Federal soldier 
 whom they found lying near the road wounded, they 
 slowly made their way through the darkness to the 
 place where they had left Doctor Fau-fax. 
 
 He lay there asleep. Aroused by the noise of their 
 approach, he sat up and cried out — "back again, 
 boys ? — have you been to Washington City ? — did you 
 fetch Old Abe with you? — let me see his majesty." 
 But when he was told what the ambulance contained, 
 his levity ceased, and he expressed sincere compassion 
 for the wounded, and sorrow for the dead. When he 
 learned that his captain was wounded, he was full of 
 anxiety. In spite of his own wound, which had become 
 painful, he rose to his feet and offered assistance, first 
 to Captain Fitzhugh, and then to the other wounded. 
 At so late an hour of the night, and after such a 
 battle, it was impossible to make immediate provision 
 for all the wounded. While a surgeon was sent for, 
 
ROEBUCK. 127 
 
 Doctor Fairfax tendered his services as far as they 
 might be rendered with safety to the patients, by vir- 
 tue of his having onpe been a physician. Leaning on 
 a man's arm, he limped to the ambulance, attended to 
 the I'emoval of the wounded, examined their wounds, 
 and spent the remainder of the night in ministering 
 to their relief The Federal captain, as the person in 
 most danger, received his principal care. Last of all, 
 Avhen daylight appeared, he turned his attention to 
 Campbell, the reporter or correspondent of the 
 " Comet," who had recovered from his fright, and in 
 full possession of his faculties, sat under a tree, leaning 
 against the trunk, and smoking a cigar. His leg still 
 gave him some j^ain, and he thought it was politic to 
 make the most of his wound. The gray light, when 
 the doctor approached him, revealed a person in holi- 
 day attire, bedizened with jewelry, but soiled with 
 dirt. When he displayed liis wound, the doctor curtly 
 said, " a bruise — nothing but a bruise," and was walk- 
 ing away. 
 
 " I say, doctor," exclaimed Campbell, " you are not 
 in a hurry, are you f 
 
 " I believe I have nothing more to do just now." 
 
 " Oblige me then by sitting down beside me. I 
 know you are tired, and I wish to have a little chat 
 with you." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said the doctor, sitting down upon 
 the ground. 
 
 " Have a cigar 1 You don't smoke 1 Then take a 
 drink. You are not very well. I have a flask here in 
 my pocket. You won't drink ? The brandy is ex- 
 cellent. I bought it in New York. I'll tell you where 
 you can buy the best cigars and brandy when you go 
 to the city. You " 
 
128 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " I thank you, sir, but I don't expect to be in New 
 York very soon." 
 
 " But information is always useful. I pick up items 
 wherever I go. I would like to get a few from you 
 now, doctor. I am Bombyx, the army correspondent 
 of the 'New York Comet.' Bombyx is Latin you 
 know for silk-worm. Capital name for a correspond- 
 ent, eh 1 They say we spin our yams out of oui* own 
 heads — ha, ha, ha!" 
 
 " The Yankee imitation of a silk-worm — a caterpil- 
 lai'," said the doctor to himself, but he said aloud, " I 
 presume you have no further occasion for ray pre- 
 sence." 
 
 " Don't go, doctor, don't go. I want to discusa 
 with you some points of interest to our common 
 country." 
 
 " What countiyman are you?" said the doctor. 
 
 *' An American, of course." 
 
 " But I am a Vu-ginian." 
 
 " It's all one — Yh-ginian and American." 
 
 " There was a question about that discussed on tho 
 battle-field yesterday." 
 
 "Now, it is the war I want to discuss with you, 
 doctor. You rebels — but excuse me for calling you a 
 rebel — no offence, I hope ?" 
 
 " Rebel I A solecism indeed to speak of the rebel- 
 lion of a State. But rebel ! It is the most popular 
 epithet in the language. Governments have always 
 endeavored to make it infamous, but they have only 
 made themselves odious. History is the pillory of 
 governments. Rebellion always implies at least one 
 virtue — courage. Three-fourths of the rebellions have 
 been right, and seven-eights have been applauded by 
 mankind. If you would flatter me, call me a rebel." 
 
ROEBUCK. 129 
 
 *' You have odd notions, doctor." 
 
 " Odd in this country ! What -would America have 
 been without rebeUion *?" 
 
 " Well then, you rebels must acknowledge that tlie 
 government of tlie Union is the best government the 
 world ever saw." 
 
 "■ You will be equally polite, of course, and acknow- 
 ledge that this is the best rebellion the world ever 
 saw." 
 
 " But I am in earnest, doctor." 
 
 " So am I. You of the Korth may praise a govern- 
 ment that serves your interest. We of the South 
 miLst praise a rebellion that is designed to save our 
 liberties." 
 
 " Speaking of liberty, doctor, I would like to discuss 
 the subject of slavery. You know our government is 
 pledged not to interfere with slavery, but if you 
 Soutlierners had correct views on that subject 1 think 
 we could soon have peace. Now I am thoroughly 
 acquainted with the subject and would like to explain 
 it to you." 
 
 " Have you lived among negro slaves V 
 
 " No, I never was in a slave-holding State before 
 yesterday. I lost my liberty the same day I entered 
 one — ha, ha, ha I" 
 
 " Your views of slavery must be interesting." 
 
 " I believe they are. Now I can convince you in 
 five minutes that slavery is wrong. Thus : you will 
 admit that by nature all men are equal." j 
 
 " Excuse me — not at present." } 
 
 " You don't admit first principles ! Then it is use- 
 less to argue with you." 
 
 " Very probably ; but I prefer not to admit as a 
 fact that which my senses contradict. I cannot see 
 
 6* 
 
130 ROEBUCK. 
 
 that a white man and a negro are by nature equal." 
 
 " Why, it is laid down in the Declaration of Inde- 
 pendence." 
 
 " So much the worse for the Declaration, if it is not 
 true." 
 
 " You blaspheme that sacred instniment." 
 
 " I worship nothing under heaven. The Declara- 
 tion of Independence was a glorious event — it was a 
 rebellion — but its glory may be due rather to the 
 sword of Washington than to the philosophy of Jef- 
 ferson." 
 
 " Why, sir, it is the great end of all the modem 
 improvements in political science to make men equal. 
 I have written a treatise to prove it. I wish I had 
 brought you a copy." 
 
 " Thank you. I'll give you a hint for your next 
 edition. If you wish to equalize two races whom 
 nature has made unequal, you have only to degrade 
 the higher. It is an easy process. They have done it 
 in Mexico — a country that can do nothing else." 
 
 "You jest at everything, doctor." 
 
 '• Why should we wrangle over questions which the 
 sword is to decide V 
 
 " Then let us talk about something else. I love to 
 talk." 
 
 Campbell then launched forth in a long harangue 
 which kept Doctor Faii-fax listening with amusement 
 and. wonder. He talked of the battle, of his family, 
 of the Federal generals, whom he called by their 
 Christian names, as familiar acquaintances, of news- 
 papers, of strategy, of boots, of ladies, of foreign 
 nations, of eveiything, with a volubility that knew 
 " no retiring ebb," His style was similar to that which 
 he used in coiTesponding with the " Comet." He 
 
R O E B U C K . 131 
 
 introfluced every toi)ic, as it were, witli a great head- 
 ing^ displayed in capitals. He magnified petty details 
 with astoiiTiding adjectives. lie spurted out every 
 sentence as if it was designed to make-a sensation, and 
 he gesticulated interjections and marks of exclamation. 
 *He tripped througli the gravest questions with a 
 jaunty, flippant, knowing air. His statements of facts, 
 tricked out to shine, were marvellous travesties of 
 truth. He predicted futili-e events like a propliet or a 
 spiritual rapper. He made it his busiuess, as he 
 modestly observed, to know ever3'thing. 
 
 Dr. Fairfax had found a character quite new to him. 
 Surely, he thought, nothing like this ever grew south 
 of Mason and Dixon's line. What impudence ! he 
 said to himself, as the harangue went on : what flip- 
 pancy ! what pretention ! what vulgarity of soul I 
 what ambitious and meretricious rhetoric ! what a 
 liar ! Thus with inward comment he sat studying 
 this novel specimen of humanity. The interest of the 
 study inspired him with a sort of liking for his speci- 
 men. He began to covet it as a natural curiosity. 
 This, he thought, was " a Yankee of the Yankees." He 
 hated that tribe in the mass, but individually, he never 
 could hate any man. Finally he interrupted the dis- 
 course. 
 
 " Come, Bombyx, my Northern light, my polar star, 
 my epitome of all Northern intelhgence, my live 
 Yai?kee, come, let us look out for breakfast." 
 
 *'A capital thought, doctor, ha, ha, ha!" 
 
 After feasting his communicative guest with the best 
 scraps he could scrape together at such a time and 
 ])lace. Doctor Fairfax again visited the Federal officer, 
 I le learned from him that he was Captain Tremaine, 
 and that he had been an oflicer in the regular army of 
 
132 ROEBUCK. 
 
 the United States before the war. He appeared to be 
 a gentleman, and his conversation increased the inter- 
 est which his sufferin^^ awakened. But the doctor did 
 not suffer him to talk much, and as soon as it was 
 practicable, he had the captain, as well as the other 
 Avounded, provided with comfortable cots and tents 
 and .with proper attendance. The drenching rain that 
 day fell on many unsheltered men, the living and the 
 dead, the wounded, the weary and the sick, on the 
 wide plain of Manassa. 
 
ROEBUCK. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A DUEL. 
 
 Ik the evening of that rainy day they buried the 
 Boldier who had been killed, as already mentioned, by 
 a grape-shot while engaged in the pui-suit. At this 
 early period of the war death had not lost its awe by 
 familiarity. "When a single man of a company fell in 
 battle, the event impressed the minds of the survivors 
 with almost as much solemnity as a death at homo 
 before the war. The body of this soldier was followed 
 by most of his comrades in the company, with every 
 demonstration of respect that cii'cumstances permitted, 
 to a small grove of stunted trees where a place of 
 burial had been selected for some of the Confederate 
 dead. The melancholy solemnity of the scene was 
 deepened by the gloom of the sky and of the neigh- 
 boring battle-field, yet encumbered with dead and 
 d}dng. When they had fulfilled their sad duty the 
 men in attendance were about to march away, when 
 Abraham Marlin, the preaching cooper, stepped for- 
 wai'd and touching his cap, requested permission to 
 say a few words. He remarked it was a pity any 
 human being should be buried without some religious 
 service. He knew a chaplain could not be had when 
 so many dying men required their attendance on them. 
 But he thought some one might offer up an humble 
 prayer at the grave. This suggestion was received 
 with silent acquiescence, but all eyes looked ai'ound 
 for the person who might perforai the proposed 
 
134' ROEBUCK. 
 
 service. Abraham, seeing that no other person was 
 willing, felt that it was incumbent on himself to dis- 
 charge the duty which he had proposed. He there- 
 fore walked to the head of the grave, took off his cap, 
 lifted up his hands and began to pray. In common 
 affau's which belonged to every-day life he was sensi- 
 ble and his language was direct and simple. But 
 when, from religious zeal, he aspired to performances 
 which exercise the higher faculties of educated men, 
 he floundered into absurdities of thought and lan- 
 guage which were almost profane in spite of his sincere 
 piety. On this occasion he soon rambled into a kind 
 of funeral discourse upon the life and character of the 
 deceased, such as can scarcely be imagined without 
 the aid of a specimen : 
 
 " We lay his mortal body in the dust — leastways it 
 was dust before the rain. We pray that his immortal 
 soul may go where the wicked cease fi-om troubling 
 and the weary are at rest, that is if it ain't popish to 
 pray for his soul when he's dead and buried, and if it 
 is, we ax pardon and take it back. He was a mighty 
 good young man as we knowed him at home. He 
 was a mighty brave soldier. He fou't in this 'ere 
 great battle agin the great company, the mighty army 
 that come out of the North parts which we've whip- 
 ped and put to flight, only a good many of 'em was 
 killed and eouldn't fly. He was killed suddently in 
 pur.suin' of 'em when the big tight was done fou't, and 
 it was a pity any more men was killed so late in the 
 evenin'. He fou't in that battle when he wa'n't able 
 to fight by good rights, becase he'd been runnin' off 
 with chronic dh-ee for most a month. But he wouldn't 
 Btay back. He was a willin' and a brave man, and he 
 wood a fou't agin in the next big battle, ef any more 
 
ROEBUCK. 135 
 
 mighty armies come out of the North parts, proviclin' 
 the diree didn't take him off in the eend." 
 
 But after some time the pious cooper dropped this 
 rambling discourse and gave, in homely but sensible 
 language, expression to those genuine emotions which 
 good men feel when they stand in the presence of 
 death and before the Judge of quick and dead. When 
 in the midst of his uncouth dialect his memory sup- 
 plied some of the affecting phrases which the scrip- 
 tures lend to the expression of personal piety or the 
 sublime imagery with which they allude to the world 
 beyond the tomb, he seemed almost eloquent. His 
 pathetic earnestness melted some of the soldiers around 
 him to tears. They indeed did not smile at those 
 absurdities by which he made sacred things appear 
 mean and ridiculous, for besides the sadness of the 
 scene, they respected the preaching cooper as a sin- 
 cere, faithful and brave man. His piety silenced their 
 censure, even when his presumption might have 
 shocked them. 
 
 An hour after the conclusion of this scene. Captain 
 Palmer, the quarter-master, sat in the door of a tent 
 conversing with a person who was present at the grave 
 about the strange proceedings of the extempore chap- 
 lain. " Abraham Marlin is a pestilent old fool," said 
 Palmer, in a loud tone. " "V^s that meant for my 
 ear ?" asked a young man who was passing the tent 
 and who turned abruptly to Palmer. 
 
 " Who are you f rejoined the latter. 
 
 " I am the son of Abraham Marling;' 
 
 " O, Mark Marlin ! I've heard of you. I repeat 
 what I said, and this time for your ears. Abraham 
 Marlin is a pestilent old fool." 
 
 " It is false, and no gentleman would say such a 
 thing about any man to his son." 
 
136 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " Sir, you are a private. I am an oflScer." 
 
 " I knew that, or I could not liave answered you 
 with words." 
 
 " Do you threaten me, sir ?" 
 
 "As you talk about your rank, I can say no more; 
 but I will say again, you are no gentleman." 
 
 " I'll have you punished, sir ; I'll have you punished 
 for your insolence." 
 
 " Then you must expose yourself," said Mark Marlin 
 as he walked away. 
 
 Palmer had fallen into thia foolish altercation, be- 
 cause he had conceived the absurd idea that, among 
 soldiers, he must support a reputation for soldierly 
 bearing by blustering rudeness, and feared he might 
 sink in the estimation of his companion if he made 
 any concession to Mark Marlin, after proclaiming his 
 opinion of Mark's father. 
 
 Later in the evening Palmer was in the tent of 
 Baxter, the commissary. That functionary was pre- 
 sent, acting as host, and his guests, besides Palmer, 
 were Dr. Frank, a surgeon, a young lieutenant. Pot- 
 ter, and two or three other officers. They all sat on 
 stools or the host's bunk. On a rough box, which 
 served for a table, stood a bottle, two tin cups and a 
 tallow candle stuck in a block of wood. Baxter was 
 entertaining the others with noisy hilarity that 
 smacked of the bottle. Dr. Frank was silent, sober 
 and sm-ly. He was a bachelor of fifty, with -heavy, 
 grey mustache and shaggy brows. He had served 
 long in the Federal navy, and was reputed to be very 
 skilful in his profession. He was as gentle as a 
 woman with the sick, but crusty with men who pre- 
 sumed to enjoy good health. He was a sworn enemy 
 of all soldiers who attempted to shirk trom duty 
 
ROEBUCK. 187 
 
 by feigning sickness. He had a habit which made 
 his scanty conversation consist mainly of oaths. 
 
 " Drink, gentlemen," said Baxter, setting an exam- 
 ple, '' drink. I can recommend my commissary stores. 
 This Co federate whiskey is an excellent summer 
 drink. It would cool a fever. It is better than sher- 
 bet for this warm weather. Doctor Frank, you shall 
 take some of my medicinal water." 
 
 The doctor growled out a refusal with an oath. 
 
 '' Don't swear, doctor, don't," said Baxter. " That 
 reminds me, gentlemen, you have been talking of the 
 preaching cooper. Now I'll tell you an anecdote of a 
 preacher and Doctor Frank. The doctor, you know, 
 Bwears more oaths than the Yankees prescribe to the 
 rebels — if that's possible. Well, a few days ago, 
 being scarce of tents, I suppose, they billetted a chap- 
 lain on our swearing friend, and the two have had to 
 sleep under the same canvass. It is the surgeon's 
 habit to stand at the door of his tent at an early hour 
 every morning, to hear the applications of soldiers for 
 certificates of ill health to excuse them from fatigue 
 duty for the day. He thinks most of them are shirk- 
 ing, and he curses those fellows high and low, in or- 
 der^ as he says, to maintain discipline. Two or three 
 mornings since, I was passing and saw the doctor at 
 his levee. He had been up all night with a poor 
 devil who threatened to slip through his fingers, and 
 liis nerves, no doubt, were more irritable than usual. 
 He believed that the entire bevy of applicants were 
 shirkers. He looked at them with brows like a jagged 
 thunder-cloud. He compressed his lips as if he was 
 holding in a young earthquake. Suddenly he turned 
 and looked in at the bunk where the chaplain lay. 
 Then he turned to scowl on the shirkers. Again ho 
 
138 ROEBUCK. 
 
 peered in at the chaplain, and again turned to the 
 waiting crowd. Then burst out the earthquake. 
 * By ,' he exclaimed, ' I will swear — I must main- 
 tain discipline^! have not cursed these fellows for a 
 week, and now they are all shirking — what's a 
 preacher? he's only a man — I will swear.' Well, ho 
 swore. All the oaths that he had corked up for a 
 week, from respect to the clergy, rushed out in one I 
 volume. He scattered that squad of shirkers faster 
 and farther than the Yanks were routed yesterday." 
 
 The surgeon swore a little, and the others laughed, 
 except Palmer. 
 
 " Why don't you laugh. Palmer ? That was a good 
 story," said Baxter. 
 
 But the quarter-master, perhaps, was not in a meny 
 mood that evening, and he had a recollection of one 
 of Baxter's practical jokes that disinclined him to ap- 
 plaud the commissary's wit. He replied : — 
 
 '' I am not bound to laugh, am I ?" 
 
 "Everybody but a churl laughs at a good joke in 
 jovial company." 
 
 " Profanity does not amuse me." 
 
 "O, Puritan !" cried Baxter, with a sneer. 
 
 " At all events, I am not a buffoon," retorted Palmer 
 with a scowl. 
 
 Baxter instantly rose and slapped Palmer's face 
 with his open hand. The latter stood a moment 
 white with rage, and then saying, " you shall hear from 
 me, sir," he flung himself out of the tent. 
 
 " Let's take another drink," said Baxter, resuming 
 his seat. But his visitors declined the invitation and 
 took leave of him. They anticipated the consequences 
 of the quarrel. They condemned the conduct of 
 Baxter, but they did not esteem Palmer. They con- 
 
ROEBUCK, 180 
 
 sldercd thnt the aiFair between them had proceeded 
 too far to be stopped. Blood for a blow, was a maxim 
 that permitted no pacification at that stage by the me- 
 diation of friends, according to their notions. Nothing 
 was left for them but to stand aside, and let the affair 
 take its course. When they had left him, Baxter sat 
 looking at his bottle for some time, and then said to 
 himself — " Now, there's poor Corporal Jones would 
 be the better of a few drops of that liquor. I'll go to 
 see him. I expect he'll die to-night. I'll help him 
 to go off the hooks easy." He filled the bottle and 
 started out with it in his hand. 
 
 It was near midnight when Palmer entered the tent 
 of Lieutenant Potter, Avho was then asleep, and asked 
 him to get up. " Mr. Potter," said he Avdth agitation, 
 " I want your advice." 
 
 " About what V said Potter, turning over and 
 yawning. 
 
 " About that affair." 
 
 " Oh — ah — yes," replied Potter, rubbing his eyes, 
 " you mean that affair with Baxter," and he yawned 
 again. 
 
 " Yes. What ought I to do V 
 
 " Don't you know '?" 
 
 " Really I do not." 
 
 " Then you are a fool," said Potter, and he turned 
 over to sleep again. 
 
 " But, Mr. Potter, indeed you must advise me. I 
 am in trouble. I have no friend here to consult with 
 — do advise me." 
 
 " Didn't you threaten that he should heai* from 
 you f 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Didn't he strike you V* 
 
140 ROEBUCK. 
 
 *' Yes." 
 
 " Don't you intend to challenge him V* 
 
 " It is on that point I want advice. I am consci- 
 entionsly opposed to duelling." 
 
 "Did you ever tell anybody so before?" 
 
 " Well — no — I believe not." 
 
 " You have allowed it to be understood that you ac- 
 knowledge the code ?" 
 
 " Perhaps I have, thoughtlessly." 
 
 " Then you are thoughtful too late. If a gentleman 
 is only known to be religious and consistent, he may 
 decline a duel without disgi*ace. Such a man is sel- 
 dom insulted and never insults. But if a man becomes 
 conscientious only when there is a pistol in view, peo- 
 ple draw ugly inferences." 
 
 " You think then that I must challensce him ?" 
 
 " I have not said that. I have not undertaken to 
 advise you. We are almost strangers to each other. 
 1 can have nothing to do with a duel without resign- 
 ing my commission. You must excuse me." 
 
 " To whem can I apply. I am much distressed." 
 
 " I can find you an adviser. Bullitt, from Rich- 
 mond, is now in camp. He is the very man for affairs 
 of honor. He knows all about them. He studies 
 them. He practises them. He'd rather be invited to 
 a duel than to a dinner. He will be glad to advise 
 you and act for you too, as yom* friend. He is like a 
 Quaker, a friend to all the world. Come along, I" 11 
 introduce you to him." 
 
 During this speech Potter got up and put on his 
 clothes. At the end of it he started out of the tent, 
 followed by Palmer, who felt but little encouraged by 
 the character of the friend he was about to meet, as 
 sketched by his guide. He was dragged onward, 
 
roebuce:. 141 
 
 hoTvever, by the circumstances of his position and by 
 his fear of losing caste among young men of spirit. 
 Through the mud and darkness Potter marched on 
 inexorably, and Palmer trudged after him in rueful 
 Bilence. At length they arrived at a tent in which 
 T\Ir. Bullitt, the man of honor, was lodging as the guest 
 of a friend. Potter called him, and as soon as he was 
 awake, signified to him that an officer desired some 
 private conversation with him. With great alertness 
 he sprang from the cot on which he slept and bi'iskly 
 stepped out of the tent. Potter announced his own 
 name, for they could not distinguish each other in the 
 dark, and then introduced Captain Palmer. He in- 
 formed Mr. Bullitt that the captain was involved in a 
 delicate affair and needed a friend. " I have taken 
 the liberty," he added, " to recommed him to you and 
 to assure hira that you would not refuse him the favor 
 he desires." 
 
 " On the contrary, it will alFord me pleasure to act 
 as a friend of any friend of yours, Mr. Potter," said 
 Bullitt. 
 
 " Then, gentlemen, I may leave you together ; good 
 night, gentlemen." 
 
 Bullett, by a few rapid and decisive questions, drew 
 from Palmer the material circumstances, and then 
 bounced into the tent, where he got a match, lighted a 
 candle, drew forth paper, pen and ink, placed them 
 on a board upon his knee and began to write. Palmer 
 could then see that he was a small, withered man, 
 with no clothes on him but a shirt and pantaloons, a 
 red night-cap, with a huge tassel, and muddy boots, 
 hastily pulled on so as to carry his wrinkled panta- 
 loons with them up to his knees. He had a peaked 
 nose, little glistening black eyes and a long, heavy 
 
142 ROEBUCK. 
 
 mustache, which, like his hair, had been black but wM 
 somewhat grizzled. He moved with quick, decisive 
 energy, and wrot« with furious rapidity. In a few 
 minutes lie produced two documents, and requested 
 Captain Palmer to sign them. One was a resignation 
 of his commission as quarter-master, and the other a 
 peremptory challenge to Baxter. Palmer read them 
 over and signed them, not knowing what else to 
 do. He had expected his adviser to offer him some 
 advice, but the artificer of duels had not imagined that 
 there could be a doubt in the mind of any one as to 
 the proper course to be pui'sued. 
 
 "Kow, Captain Palmer," said his friend, ''I wiU 
 forward your resignation to the adjutant and I will 
 deliver the note to Captain Baxter forthwith. You 
 can he down and refresh yourself with sleep. I will 
 call you when you are needed." 
 
 Palmer was not very sleepy at that moment. Ho 
 looked at Bullitt while he jerked on his coat, flung 
 aside his night-cap and covered his head with an old- 
 fashioned cocked hat, which it was his fancy to wear. 
 They then walked together to the quarter-master's 
 tent, and Bullitt, having obtained the information 
 necessary for finding Baxter, went on alone, while his 
 principal stood wondering how soon that brisk step of 
 his second would bring him back with an announce- 
 ment that all things Avere ready, and Captain Palmer 
 was to be shot at without more delay. Bullitt found 
 the commissary's quarters, but Baxter was not there. 
 After satisfying himself of that fact, the faithful Mend, 
 not knowing how to find the adversary except by 
 waiting for him to return, began to pace backward 
 and forward before his tent like a sentinel. He kept 
 up that oscillating march with exemplary perseverance 
 
ROEBUCK. 143 
 
 .until day was breaking. He then discovered a man 
 passing not far i*rom hira, and approaching the passen- 
 ger, he inquired if that person knew where Captain 
 Baxter might be found. " Come with me," replied 
 the man, who happened to be Doctor Frank, on his 
 way to visit Corporal Jones. Bullitt followed, until 
 they arrived at the entrance of a tent, where they 
 paused in consequence of what they saw and heard. 
 Within the tent Baxter was standing over a cot occu- 
 pied by a sick man, and as he arranged the pillow, he 
 said — " now, Jones, I am going to leave you, old fel- 
 low. The surgeon will be here in a few minutes." 
 
 " O, captain," said the sick ., man, feebly, " I am so 
 much obliged to you for staying with me all night. 
 You have done me so much good. I had not laughed 
 before since I was taken sick." 
 
 " You are going to be well soon. Keep up your 
 spirits. I'll put this bottle under your head to keep 
 your spu'its up. This is the great medicine after all. 
 .It beats the doctors and the quack pills to boot. I 
 would have been under the ground long ago if I had 
 not been drunk half my life — or half drunk all my life. 
 I am not sure which is the best division of time. I 
 believe if a man was kept drunk all day and half drunk 
 all night it would be a pretty even divide. Don't you 
 feel better now V 
 
 The patient laughed. The sm'geon then went in, 
 and Baxter, after making a brief report of the sick 
 man's condition dm*ing the night, went out of the tent. 
 Bullitt met him, touched his cocked hat, and said, 
 " Captain Baxter, I believe 1 Mr. Bullitt. I am the 
 bearer of a message for you, sir. May I see you at 
 yom- quarters V 
 
 " I am going there. But you may save time by 
 
Ui ROEBUCK. 
 
 delivering tho message at once. Is it from Captain 
 Palmer t" 
 
 " Yes ; this is the note, sir.*' 
 
 *' What does he want 1" asked Baxter, taking tha 
 note but not reading it ; " does he want to fight V* 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 *' Yery well ; bring him along." 
 
 " How do you mean ? Please refer me to your 
 fi'iend, captain, to settle the necessary arrangements." 
 
 " I am my own friend. We'll settle the an-ange- 
 ments as we walk to the ground. I have pistols in my 
 tent — or you may bring yours." 
 
 " I do not understand this mode of proceeding. 
 You seem to be jesting. But I'll wait until you have 
 read the note and written your answer." 
 
 " I won't wait. I've been up all night and I must 
 have a nap before breakfast. This affair must be dis- 
 patched at once, so that I may go to bed." 
 
 " Surely you jest, sir. This is a grave affair." 
 
 " It may be grave enough for your friend, if I can 
 steady my hand this morning." 
 
 " But your friend — yoa will refer me to youi 
 friend!" 
 
 " I have no friend. I want no friend. I have no 
 time to be looking for a friend now." 
 
 " You will not go to the field alone ?" 
 
 " I hope to see you there, if not Palmer. Come 
 along." 
 
 "But, sir, this is irregular — absolutely contrary to 
 all rule. I protest" 
 
 " Mr. Bullitt— I think you called yourself Bullitt V 
 
 " That is my name, su-." 
 
 " Do you see that clump of trees, with a tall pine in 
 the centre — there — about two miles off?** 
 
ROEBUCK. U5 
 
 "I see it." 
 
 " I shall be there — just beyond that clump of trees 
 in forty minutes. If you and your principal are not 
 thore within an hour from this time — it is just five — 
 you must take the consequences. Weapons — pistols. 
 ])istance — ten paces. Good morning, sir." 
 
 *' Stop, captain," cried Bullitt, following him as he 
 walked off, " this is most irregular. There is no pre- 
 cedent for it. Two against one ! You on the ground 
 alone, and the other party with a friend! It will be 
 murder." 
 
 " Murder, when I shoot your principal ? You can 
 take care of him. Doctor Frank, I dare say, will go 
 with us if you ask him." 
 
 *' With whom shall I consult — negotiate — arrange — 
 I'm shocked. This proceeding is out of all rule. Two 
 against one ! It will never do." 
 
 " Well," said Baxter, " since you are shocked I will 
 compromise the matter. You shall act as the friend 
 of both parties." 
 
 " I don't understand that at all. That's irregular 
 too. Can I aiTange terms with myself? Can I agree 
 with myself? Can I advise one pai*ty that he should 
 be satisfied, and the other that he should not ? Must 
 I ask myself a question from one side, and answer it 
 myself from the other? Can I" 
 
 *' Good morning, Mr. Bullitt. In forty minutes." 
 
 " Heavens ! what shall I do ? Such an iiTegular 
 party ! [Must I abandon my pricipal and go half over 
 to the other side ? Stay, Captain Baxter," lie cried, 
 ininning after that irregular party, " Stay. This af- 
 fair must go on some way. If it must be your way, 
 I am not responsible. I protest, but under protest, I 
 consent to act as the common friend of both prin* 
 cipals." 7 
 
146 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " All rii^ht. Bo quick." 
 
 " I'll bring my pistols. I always carry a beautiful 
 pail-." 
 
 "Very well. We'll choose between yours and 
 mine." 
 
 When Bullitt made known the aiTangement to 
 Palmer, the latter was fluttered by the precipitancy 
 of action, and objected to the part assigned to Bullitt, 
 as neutralizing his second. On that oround he was 
 inclined to break off the affair. But Bullitt declared 
 that it could not be broken off without everlasting dis- 
 grace. It must go on, -even in this uTegular fashion. 
 Being thus pressed, and having neither experience 
 nor counsellor to guide him to a loop-hole of retreat, 
 Palmer ceased to object. When the pistols had been 
 procured, he walked to the appointed field, escorted 
 by his second — or half-second — and attended by Doc- 
 tor Frank, with a very alarming case of instruments 
 imder his arm. When they reached the ground Bax- 
 ter was there, lying asleep on the grass. After waking 
 Mm, Bullitt selected the pistols, chose the ground and 
 measured the distance. With a comical air of per- 
 plexity he tossed up with himself for the choice of 
 position, and arranged with himself all the prelimina- 
 lies in the most formal manner. He was repeatedly 
 embarrassed by his neutral or equivocal relation to 
 the parties. After placing them in position, and giv- 
 ing them their weapons, he paused and gravely ad- 
 dressed them. , 
 
 " Gentlemen, I must now formally protest in pre- 
 sence of you both, 'as I have protested to you seve- 
 rally, that the mode of proceeding adopted on tliis oc- 
 casion is entii'ely irregular. I have acceded to it only 
 from necessity. I will not be responsible for the con- 
 
nOEBUCK. 147 
 
 Bcqucnces, and I protest that this case shall never be 
 drav\'n into precedent Avith ray consent." 
 
 When he gave, the word, the combatants fired al- 
 most simultaneously. They both remained standing 
 after the exchange of shots. Bullitt, looking first at 
 one, and then at the other, from his post, which was 
 equi-distant from them, was again perplexed. He 
 deemed it his duty to approach his principal, but 
 which principal first? One reason came into his head 
 for rendering his first attention to Palmer, but another 
 reason immediately claimed that preference for Bax- 
 ter. He started towards the latter, but halted and 
 turned towards the former. After one or two more 
 such zigzags, be threw up his hands in despair, and 
 darted at Baxter. 
 
 " Are you hurt, Captain Baxter ?" he cried. 
 
 " No," said Baxter, quietly, " neither of us is hurt. 
 I raised the dust from his pants, but my ball struck 
 the ground ten feet beyond him. His ball struck that 
 weed about a yard from me. I saw it shake." 
 
 Bullitt went to Palmer, who, though not very cour- 
 ageous, had pride enough to carry him thus far 
 through the scene with a fair show of firmness. 
 Having ascertained that he was not hurt, the impar- 
 tial second retired a few paces to consult with him- 
 self as to the proper step for him next to take. While 
 he pondered, he was reloading the weapons. Sud- 
 denly he was startled by a cry from Palmer — " a con- 
 stable, a constable." Kepeating these words. Palmer 
 started from his post, walking rapidly. " Stop," said 
 ]3ullitt, " there is no constable about here 1" But 
 Palmer quickened his pace to a run, while the second 
 shouted after him frantically — " stop, come back, fool, 
 coward, poltroon, come back, I say." But faster and 
 
148 K0E13UCK. 
 
 faster the fugitive ran, until he disappeared in a wood 
 
 " Why, if s Hugh Fitzhngh." said Baxter, pointing 
 at a man who was approaching them, and who had 
 been seen first by Pahuer. Some duty had brought 
 Captain Fitzhugh neai* enough to the spot to hear the 
 sound of the pistols, and thinking it Avas some alarm 
 or irregularity of pickets, he hastened in the direction 
 of the sound to learn the cause. As he came for- 
 Avard, Bullitt said — "Captain Baxter, I am deeply 
 mortified at the conduct of my first principal. Bat, 
 of course, I take his place now. With that view you 
 will excuse me, I am sure, for resuming entire my 
 original relation as his second. I trust, sh*," he con- 
 tinued, addressing Captain Fitzhugh, " although I 
 have not the honor of your acquaintance, you A\-ill 
 oblige us by performing for Captain Baxter and my- 
 self the part which I had undertaken to perform for 
 him and Captain Palmer. It is very UTegular, I ad- 
 mit, but necessity may excuse it. Captain Baxter, does 
 this meet your approbation V 
 
 " What does all this mean ?" inquired Fitzhugh. 
 
 " I'll tell you," responded Baxter ; " this gentleman 
 —Mr. Bullitt, Captain Fitzhugh — desires to exchange 
 shots with me and I have no objection. You will 
 Htand by and see fair play." 
 
 " I'll do no such thing. This folly must stop here." 
 
 '' Of coiH'se," said Bullitt, '" such an afi^liir must 
 come to an untimely end when a third party steps in 
 to interfere with it. But I protest " 
 
 '•Never mind your protest," interrupted Baxter, 
 " let's go to breakfast." 
 
 "Now," said Fitzhugh, after he had, by inqumng 
 of Baxter, learned some particulars of the afl'air, " let 
 us agree to say nothing of Palmei'*s conduct. It 
 
n £ B U C K . 1-19 
 
 would injure him and do no good. He is new to 
 such things." 
 
 '•' O. he has carried the matter to camp in his heels," 
 replied Baxter, " but I shall say nothing about it." 
 
 " I am not sure what I shall do about this affair," 
 said Bullitt, testily ; " the whole business has been so 
 irregular that I don't know whether I shall allow any 
 gentleman to allude to it in my presence without giv- 
 ing me satisfaction. I must look up the authorities 
 before I commit myself" 
 
 The three walked together towards the camp, and 
 after going some distance, Baxter exclaimed — "the 
 surgeon ! we have forgotten the doctor." He had sat 
 in the clump of trees dming the proceedings. Turn- 
 ing back, they saw him marching along behind them 
 and looking very surly. They waited for him, and as 
 he approached, they heard him growling and. cursing. 
 " Humbug," he grunted, " humbug — no need of a 
 surgeon for this party " — with an appendix of oaths. 
 They spoke to him and endeavored to apologize for 
 leaving him, but he gave neither heed nor reply. 
 He marched past, muttering the same contemptuous 
 oaths. 
 
 Palmer did not halt until he found himself five or 
 six miles from the camp. Then he sat down upon a 
 log and held a council in his own bosom. He re- 
 flected that the failure of his matrimonial project had 
 cut the principal tie which bound him to the Southern 
 cause, and now if he returned to the army, he thought 
 he must encounter disgrace on account of this morn- 
 ing's proceed!^ igs. His commission and his character 
 were gone. He began to recall the obligations of 
 birth and to speculate upon the chances of improving- 
 his condition by transferring himself to the North. 
 Upon this theme he sat musing a long time. 
 
150 ROEBUCK., 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ROEBUCK AFTER MAN ASS A. 
 
 From various causes the camp at Manassa proved 
 to be unfiivorable to the recovery of the sick and 
 wounded. In two or three days after the battle, 
 Doctor Fairfax became satisfied that if he remained 
 there his wound, already showing unpleasant symp- 
 toms, would be slow to heal, and he decided to return 
 home for a time. Not being an enlisted soldiei^ he 
 obtained permission without difiiculty. In the mean- 
 time he had been almost constantly with Captain Tre- 
 maine. Sympathy and respect rapidly ripened into 
 friendship for that gallant and unfortunate gentleman. 
 The doctor became so warmly interested in his re- 
 covery that he desired to take him to his own house, 
 where he might have the benefit of such nursing and 
 care as a camp could not afford. "When he invited the 
 captain to accompany him the wounded prisoner was 
 very grateful. Through the exertions of Doctor Fair- 
 fax and Captain Fitzhugh, the consent of the proper 
 authorities was obtained. The prisoner's condition 
 was very critical, but as the journey was to be almost 
 entirely by railway, it was hoped that he would be 
 but little injured by removal, under the judicious care 
 of the doctor. Being among strangers, the wounded 
 man naturally found some comfort in the society of a 
 person from his own country and of his own political 
 sentiments. He had, therefore, taken some pleasure 
 in the presence of Campbell, and, perhaps at the sug- 
 
ROEBUCK. 161 
 
 gestion of Ihfit modest gentleman, he expressed, with 
 ipparent hesitation, a desire that his Northern Country- 
 man should accompany him, if that should be found 
 practicable and was agreeable to Doctor Fairfax. The 
 doctor was not averse to the arrangement. His inter- 
 est in " Bombyx," as a study, was not diminished by 
 their intercourse, and he was willing to be amused at 
 home by this curious specimen. Besides, he desired 
 to oblige Captain Tremaine in every way. Camp- 
 bell had already been informed that, as a civilian and 
 a mere spectator of the battle, he would not be treated 
 as. a prisoner of war, but that, for military reasons, it 
 Avas deemed necessary to detain him for a short time 
 within the Confederate lines. It was finally arranged 
 that both Tremaine and Campbell, giving suitable 
 paroles, should accompany Doctor Fairfax. The doc- 
 tor notified his brother that, being slightly wounded, 
 he was about to return home with two wounded 
 friends-, and he requested that his own house might be 
 prepared for them. * 
 
 This was the first information received at Roebuck 
 how Doctor Dick had fared in the battle. The coun- 
 try had been informed with telegraphic brevity that the 
 South had gained a splendid victory at Manassa, but 
 with severe loss in killed and wounded. Then the 
 wires conveyed the names of generals and afterwards 
 of other officers who had fallen. Next came an esti- 
 mate of the Confederate loss, studiously moderate, 
 but fi-ightful to those who had kindred in the army. 
 Slowly a few telegrams followed from survivors to 
 their families. But for several days nothing was 
 known throughout the country of the fate of thou- 
 sands of the best and bravest of the land, who had 
 been exposed to the peril of a bloody battle. The 
 
152 ROEBUCK. 
 
 announcement of victory had thrilled the Southern 
 people with joy and exultation. Success so decisive 
 in the first great battle of the war was generally 
 accepted as decisive of the entu*e contest. Indepen- 
 dence was regarded as secure. That sentiment of 
 security, with the subsequent inaction of the army, was 
 very detrimental to the Confederate cause. The first 
 year of the war, when the native courage and fresh 
 enthusiasm of the Southern troops made them irre- 
 sistible on an equal field, was almost thrown away, 
 and the time thus lost could never be recovered. But 
 after the fir.st exultant echo of triumph came the wail 
 of a people for the loved ones who had purchased the 
 victory with their blood. There was agony, borno 
 with patriotic fortitude, but it was agony. 
 
 The family at Roebuck were relieved of painful 
 anxiety when they learned that Doctor Fairfax was 
 returning home, only slightly wounded. Preparations 
 were made to receive him and his two friends, who 
 were supposed to be Confederate soldiers. It was de- 
 cided that a bachelor's establishment was not a fit 
 place for wounded patriots, and that the comforts of 
 Roebuck and the tender care of women would be 
 absolutely necessary. When the train, which vras ex- 
 pected to bring the doctor and his friends, arrived, 
 Colonel Fred was at the station. Captain Tremaine 
 was borne from the train on a cot, preceded by Doctor 
 Fahfax, on crutches, and followed by Cam})bell, limp- 
 ing on a cane. 
 
 •' \Yelcome, brother Dick," exclaimed the colonel, 
 *' welcome home ; are these your friends '? Welcome, 
 gentlemen ; bring them along, Dick : here is the 
 carriage ; here's a spring wagon with a bed on it, in 
 case any of you need itj let me help to carry your 
 
ROEBUCK. 153 
 
 friend ; come along ; you are all going to Roebuck ; 
 the ladies are waiting for you ; not a word ; thrco 
 wounded gentlemen to be laid up in a bachelor's 
 barracks ! preposterous ! it is all settled ; come on." 
 
 " But, brother Fred," repeated the doctor, several 
 times, while the colonel was delivering this speech 
 with great animation; '• but, brother Fred," and he 
 plucked the colonel's sleeve, and attempted to draw 
 him aside, for the prospect of carrying Campbell to 
 be domiciled with the family at Roebuck horrified 
 Iiim-; " but, brother Fred," he finally exclaimed, " they 
 are Yankees." 
 
 " Yankees, Dick 1 Good God ! Have you brought 
 a brace of Yankees here 1 You !" 
 
 Now, the colonel was a kind-hearted man. He had 
 been opposed to secession and war. He had not 
 cherished that animosity against the Northern people 
 which his brother proclaimed. But war engendered 
 bitter hatred in the mildest tempers. Atrocities wan- 
 tonly inflicted, as he believed, with the sanction of 
 the highest Federal authorities, provoked in his bosom 
 antipathy that was deep, stern and almost implacable. 
 His general indignation against the North naturally 
 tinged his feeling towards all individuals who were 
 known to him only as abettors of the North in the 
 war. Of all men his brother was the last whom he 
 would have expected to find in charitable charge of 
 such malignant enemies. The colonel had not been 
 a soldier, and, therefore, had not felt the charities of 
 the battle-field when the battle is over. " You !" 
 
 Doctor Dick, caught in an inconsistency, reddened 
 and stammered. He attempted to explain. But the 
 colonel happened to look at the face of Captain Tre- 
 maine. That prostrate and helpless gentleman, suf- 
 
 7* 
 
154 ROEBUCK. 
 
 ferin^ physical agony, seemed even more distressed 
 by the scene which he tlien witnessed between the 
 two brothers. He understood enongh of it to make 
 liim feel that he was the occasion of embarrassment 
 and pain to his friend, the doctor. His eves turned 
 from one brother to the other with an expression of 
 anguish. When the colonel looked at him, compas- 
 sion took the place of anger. He bent over the cap- 
 tain, gentry took his hand, and in the kindest voice 
 expressed sympathy and welcome. With his habitual 
 promptitude he called assistance, placed the wounded 
 officer on the bed, made every possible provision for 
 his ease and comfort, and rode on horseback beside 
 the wagon, to see that the " Yankee" should receive 
 no injury. The doctor and Campbell followed in the 
 the carriage to Roebuck. 
 
 When they arrived there, about sunset, of course 
 Doctor Dick had an affectionate welcome. The ladies, 
 without investigating the nationality of the other gen- 
 tlemen, received them kindly, and offered to the 
 wounded captain such sympathetic words and tender 
 offices as his condition suggested. He was canied 
 into a large, convenient chamber, handsomely fur- 
 nished, and laid upon a bed that needed not a wound, 
 a joui'ney, or contrast with a camp-cot to make it 
 seem luxurious. A physician of eminence was sent 
 for, and in the course of the evening, his skill, with 
 the ministrations of the family, soothed the patient's 
 suffering and inspired him with the hope of life and 
 health. At his request, a bed was placed in his cham- 
 ber for his countryman, Campbell. 
 
 When those guests had been disposed of for the 
 night, and the wound of Doctor Fairfax had been 
 dressed — a wound which Mrs. Fairfax pronounced to 
 
ROEBUCK. 155 
 
 be alarming, and which the physician thought would 
 require repose and care— that disabled soldier lay 
 upon a sofa, like a warrior taking his rest, but ready, 
 as usual, to talk. 
 
 " Now, Colonel Julia," he said, " come and kiss 
 me, like a good girl, and then, like a colonel, you 
 shall talk to me about war. I know you are dying to 
 hear all I have to tell about the great battle and vic- 
 tory, and especially, about my own martial exploits. 
 I believe now, my fair Desdemona, I might win your 
 love, if I wanted it, like Othello, by bragging." 
 " You can never win my love. Uncle Dick." 
 
 " Why, Miss, t-ell me why, you saucy" ■ 
 
 " Because you have had it ever so long." 
 "Fudge! But) speaking of love, what have you 
 done to bewitch that feather-brained fellow, Hugh 
 Fitzhugh'?" 
 
 " I am not a witch, uncle, and Captain Fitzhugh is 
 not feather-brained, I believe," replied Julia, smiling 
 and blushing. 
 
 " Well, he is a sad fellow ; we'll not talk of him." 
 " But you must not disparage my friends in their 
 absence." 
 
 " O, he's a friend of yours ? Then 1 shall not slan- 
 der him — much." 
 
 " Fie ! Be serious — noAV do — and tell us about the 
 battle." 
 
 The story of Manassa, as then told by the doctor 
 to his brother and the two ladies, had for them the 
 fascination of novelty, of tragedy and triumph. They 
 were not yet familiar with the aAvful scenes of a long 
 and sanguinaiy contest. To them that battle, with 
 its victory, seemed enough of carnage and of glory for 
 an entire war. To the ladies particularly, it appeared 
 
156 ROEBUCK. 
 
 that the end of the war was achieved. The story 
 filled their imaginations, like a noble history already 
 complete. When the doctor had described the events 
 of chief importance, he began to entertain them with 
 anecdotes of personal adventure. One of them related 
 to some of the personages of this narrative. 
 
 '' There is Captain Fitzhugh, now — your friend, 
 Colonel Julia — he has the name of being a brave man 
 — I shall say nothing against your friend on that 
 score — but, like the rest of us, he is a raw soldier and 
 may blunder into scrapes — and he rides a fleet horse — 
 that I know ; the Yankees know it too, for they hav€ 
 seen his heels." 
 
 Having said so much, with significant looks and 
 tones, he paused and fixed his eyes on Julia, as if ex- 
 pecting her to invite an explanation of his hints. 
 But some maidenly coyness or consciousness sealed 
 her sweet lips, and sent a blush to her beautiful 
 cheeks. Mrs. Fairfax had no such feeling to restrain 
 the curiosity which belongs to her sex — and to the 
 haughtier sex. 
 
 " Go on,*' she said, " tell us what you have to tell 
 about Hugh." 
 
 " Well, Hugh is a warrior, who, by the diligent 
 study of his profession, has discovered that the whole 
 ai't of war is neatly packed away in a few words of an 
 old Greek poet, or in two lines of modern parody — 
 
 ' He that fights, and runs away, 
 May live to fight another day.' 
 
 On one occasion, however, he would have prefeijed, I 
 believe, to omit the preliminary fight suggested by the 
 poet before running." 
 
ROEBUCK. 157 
 
 " Uncle Dick, you shall not" 
 
 "Whatr 
 
 " Come," said the colonel, laughing, " you shall not 
 tease the ladies with your scandalous hints. Tell your 
 tale like a man." 
 
 " Well, if I must, I must. But you shall not blame 
 me, Julia, if the story does not please you. Once 
 upon a time, then — it was a few days before the battle 
 — Captain Fitzhugii was sent to spy out — you would 
 say to reconnoitre, Colonel Julia — a position of the 
 enemy. About sunrise he went some two miles in 
 advance of his company, to a hill from which he ex- 
 pected to obtain a near and clear view of the position. 
 He took with him only two men. One of them was 
 Mark Marlin, the young man, JuHa, who has taken 
 your gentlemanly father for his model. It is not ne- 
 cessary to name the other man. They were all well 
 mounted. The men, perhaps, were selected with a 
 view to the fleetness of their horses, according to the 
 fundamental flying principle of the captain. Hugh 
 rode his famous black, Sultan. Mark was on the horse 
 you gave him, brother Fred." 
 
 " Sold to him." 
 
 " Well, the other soldier had a swifter nag than 
 either of them, as the result showed. When they ar- 
 rived at the hill, it was so densely wooded that the 
 captain deemed it necessary to descend alone to an 
 open bench or little plateau, from which he could 
 plainly see the whole batch of Yankees on the oppo- 
 site side of a small stream. He was as clearly seen 
 himself by the hostile pickets along the margin of the 
 stream, and he stood within easy range of their guns. 
 He remained there ten or fifteen minutes, while a dozen 
 of the blue-coats were firing away at him, and how 
 
158 ROEBUCK. 
 
 he escaped injury I cannot imagine. Just as he re- 
 turned to his two fo. lowers they had discovered a 
 squad of the enemy's cavahy, eight or ten in number, 
 making for the road by which they had come. To 
 return on that road was impossible. To remain was 
 out of the question. Tliere was no way to get back 
 to the company but by scouring across open fields in 
 full view of the enemy, and trusting to luck and 
 speed. So we — so the captain led off, commanding 
 the two men to follow, or to make their way back as 
 they should find it necessary. He was able to keep' 
 ahead of Mark, but the other grey-back distanced 
 them both. They were soon discovered by the Yan- 
 kee squad, wht> immediately attempted to intercept 
 them. They succeeded in cutting off Marlin, and 
 bringing him to bay. The brave boy drew his sabre, 
 and endeavored to cut his way through them. The 
 captain, looking back, saw his follower surrounded, 
 and fighting furiously. Wheeling his horse, Hugh 
 dashed at the Yankees, and began to lay about him 
 with such vigor that their attention was withdrawn 
 from Mark to the officer, and there was momentary 
 confusion among them. Seeing that Marlin was ex- 
 tricated by the movement, his captain called out — 
 ' fly, Mark, fly — fly, I command you.' The soldier, 
 with the instinct of military obedience, fled at the 
 word of command, although, until it was repeated 
 with peremptory vehemence, he hesitated to leave his 
 officer. The Feds did not follow him, but tried to 
 close in upon the ca:^)tain. By the dexterous manage- 
 ment of his horse and sword, or by marvellous for- 
 tune, he kept his life among them until he thought 
 Mark had a sufficient start. Then throwing his body 
 forward to the neck of his liorse, and plunging the 
 
ROEBUCK. 159 
 
 spurs into Sultan's sides, he was carried at a leap be- 
 tween uplifted sabres clear of the Federals. They 
 pursued, firing their pistols. Only a few hundred 
 yards in advance, there was a fence over which Hugh 
 and Mark were carried by their horses without halt- 
 ing. But none of the pursuers ventured the leap. 
 Thus they lost time which was well employed by the 
 flying grey-backs. When they had crossed one or two 
 more fences, that fortunately crossed their line of re- 
 treat, the blue-coats were out of sight, and they were 
 never seen again. Hugh says that in the fray, Mark 
 emptied one saddle ; and Mark, more liberal in his 
 commendation, avers that his captain cut down two 
 of the Yankees. It is a pity that these witnesses are 
 not quite impartial, and that the other grey- back, who 
 sneers at their testimony, had not remained near 
 enough to the scene of action to correct their reports. 
 But he had regained the company, and spread won- 
 drous rumors long before the captain's return." 
 " Who was he V inquired Julia. 
 " It is none of your business, niece of mine.'* 
 " Thou art the man, I verily believe, Uncle Dick." 
 " Never say that, again 1 Don't slander your 
 uncle." 
 
 " Brother Dick," said Mrs. Fairfax, " who or what 
 is this Mr. Campbell, you have brought home with 
 your' 
 
 '• A genuine Yankee, my gentle sister, if there can 
 be a genuine counterfeit." 
 
 " Uncle Dick, you have told us that Captain Tre- 
 raaine is a true man." 
 
 " One swallow don't make a summer, ]\Iiss Julia. 
 As for Campbell, when I first saw him, I thought he 
 had a good face, but upon examining it, I found it 
 
160 ROEBUCK. 
 
 was only a Yankee imitation of a good face — made, 
 like other Yankee goods, to impose upon customers at 
 first sight, but not to wear well. In every feature there 
 was some cunning defect. I might suspect that, like 
 Richard, he was cheated of feature by dissembling na- 
 ture ; but at cheating, a Yankee would beat nature. 
 When I conversed with him — 0, what a rare bird I I 
 thought I would have some sport with him at home, 
 but really, sister Mary, I am sorry he was bi ought 
 here." 
 
 " Kever mind ; he will help to cheer Captain Tre- 
 maine." 
 
 " I hope so ; poor fellow ! he is a gentleman. Ah, 
 me 1 But fellows like Campbell will write oar his^ 
 tory." 
 
ROEBUCK. 161 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 B0 3IBYX AT ROEBUCK. 
 
 Captain Tkemaine's condition for soveral days re- 
 mained critical. At one time it was regarded as des- 
 perate. Two or three nights Colonel Fairfax sat by 
 his bedside all ni.Ofht, and the physician was kept in 
 the house. But when the crisis was past his convales- 
 cence was rapid. Although the Federal authorities 
 had adopted the inhuman policy of preventing the 
 importatit)n of medicines into the Confederacy, the 
 most necessary remedies could still be supplied to a 
 Federal prisoner. The patieait constantly received 
 the kindest attention from the family and from ser- 
 vants who had experience in nursing the sick. Doctor 
 Dick spent much time in his chamber, applying the 
 physician's instructions Avith professional intelligence, 
 and amusing the captain with quaint conversation, 
 relieved of all satirical asperity by sympathy and re- 
 spect for this '' Yankee." His own favorite servant, 
 Caleb, divided his attention between his master and 
 the wounded captain. The good clergyman, Mr. 
 Ambler, visited him often, and a cordial friendship was 
 established between them. Tremaine won the esteem 
 of all .who approached him by the gentleness of his 
 manners, his patience in suffering, his gratitude for 
 kindness, and, in brief, by the honorable sentiments of 
 an educated soldier. In a few weeks his health was 
 so far restored that he might be removed with safety, 
 and a special exchange having been arranged for hira 
 
162 ROEBUCK. 
 
 through the interest of friends, he left Roebuck for the 
 North. His departure was sincerely regi'etted by the 
 friends he had made there, and he expressed the 
 ■u^armest gratitude for all their kindness. Taking 
 leave of him for a itime, vre return to his compatriot, 
 Campbell. 
 
 Although they found the manners and sentiments 
 of that guest by no means agreeable, yet Colonel » 
 Fairfax and his family, studious of hospitality, endea- 
 vored in every way to promote his comfoit and plea- 
 sure. The colonel placed a horse at his disposal to* 
 ride at will over the plantation and through the 
 neighborhood. The host would have deemed it 
 miworthy of himself to watch his movements or to 
 suspect him of any baseness while his ht)nor as a 
 guest and as a prisoner on parole was pledged. The 
 doctor, whose leg confined him to the house, played 
 chess with him or indulged him with plenty of the 
 talk which he loved. The war was, naturally, the 
 most frequent theme of their conversation, for the sen- 
 timent of delicacy which excluded it from the conver- 
 sations between Captain Tremaine and the family, did 
 not restrain Bombyx, especially when he was alone 
 with Doctor Dick. At first he was much embarrassed 
 in the society of Roebuck. His assurance was 
 abashed by the quiet, unassuming manners of gentle- 
 men and ladies, who, in the familiarity of domestic life, 
 practiced the refined gentleness to which they hacT 
 been born. As he dared not afi*ect superiority after 
 his manner, he would have fallen into servility after 
 his nature, if he had not been made to feel that the 
 social law of the place was one of equality at a high 
 level and that it was equally a transgi-ession to cringe 
 and to hector. He suspected that there was an odious 
 
ROEBUCK. 1G3 
 
 .air of aristocracy about Roebuck, but he missed the 
 haugh.ty arrogance which, in his fancy, was associated 
 with tlie aristocracy of the South. When a few days 
 liad rendered liini more fjimiliar with the usages of 
 the place he began to despise, as a weakness, the 
 unobtnisive gentleness which he could never compre- 
 hend. 
 
 *' Check !" cried the doctor, one day, " check- 
 mate I" 
 
 " Yes," Campbell admitted, " I believe Johny Reb 
 has the Yank this time." 
 
 " So may it ever be," replied Doctor Dick, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 " Kow, doctor, let us talk seriously about that a 
 little while. I see a great many good servants here — 
 faithful, stout, good-humored fellows — don't you think 
 it would be better to set them all free?" 
 
 " And turn the best of servants into the worst of 
 freemen V 
 
 " O, give them time — they will improve after they 
 are free." 
 
 '' The world has waited several thousand years for 
 the negro race to originate an idea. If we are to wait 
 for their brains to bloom we may wait until the crack 
 of doom, or until Yankees become honest." 
 
 "Doctor, you are a bundle of prejudices." 
 
 " Very likely. Prejudices are the ribs of char- 
 acter." 
 
 " You know we don t intend to injure the South." 
 
 " You would not injure the watch though you would 
 crush the works !" 
 
 " But if we should emancipate the negroes we 
 would certainly confer a benefit on both races — let me 
 convince you of that." 
 
164 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " Answer Mr. Campbell, Caleb," said tbe doctor, to 
 his favorite servant, who stood with a napkin on his 
 arm, waiting for orders. Being commanded to speak, 
 he made a profound bow to the guest and began : 
 
 " If I am allowed to suppress my cogitation on this 
 memorable occasion, human nature teaches me that 
 white folks that I have, never seen would not come a 
 thousand miles just to fight for my good." 
 
 " There it is, Mr. Campbell," said the doctor, " go 
 on and plant your oranges in icebergs." 
 " But you would like to be free, Caleb ?" 
 " That's as might be according to the circumnaviga- 
 tion of circumstances. I do not see many white folks 
 as free as I am, no oflenee to you, master, as being 
 cm* prisoner. Them other free niggers, as I repre- 
 hend by my cu'curalocution, they are lazy beggars and 
 thieves. They are the contemptible, black coffee- 
 grounds of society left after the second b'iling." 
 
 " That will do Caleb ; Mr. Campbell has your 
 opinion." 
 
 " Well, doctor, however we may differ about slaveiy, 
 it is astonishing that you Southerners make war 
 agai«st so good a government as ours." 
 
 " We make war ! The South attempted peacable 
 secession — the North attempted to prevent secession 
 by force. The North made war." 
 " But no State has a right to secede." 
 *' Then the Federal government is absolute." 
 " Oh, no, doctor, it is a free government." 
 ** Under a free government the rights of all should 
 be protected with even-handed justice. Protection 
 should be meted to all in equal measure and with the 
 quality of manna — he that gathered mucli had nothing 
 over, and he that gathered little had no lack. The 
 
ROEBUCK. 1G5 
 
 Fcdcrnl government enriches the Korth at the ex- 
 pense of the South, and whan we would escape from 
 lei^alized rapacity, we are told that wo are bound for- 
 ever. When the forms of law to which we assented 
 cannot hold us, the sword is illegally drawn to subju- 
 gate our States. Is this a free government for us? 
 But I did not intend to be drawn into an angry discus- 
 sion. It can do no good. It is better to laugh aside 
 subjects that irritate when we cannot be convinced." 
 
 '''No, no, doctor, I am not angry. I am sure I can 
 convince you if you give me time. Think of the 
 greatness of the government you are giving up. If 
 we remain united we can defy the world." 
 
 " If you worship power, you should offer your in- 
 cense to the Prince of Darkness. His dominion is 
 not confined to the United States." 
 
 '' Well, doctor, if you won't discuss the matter se- 
 riously, you must not think hard of us for preserving 
 the life of the nation at all hazards." 
 
 " Which nation— North or South ? You would take 
 the life of the South, in order that the North may live 
 
 at ease." 
 
 " One nation, embracing North and South, East and 
 
 •^est a great, free, enlightened nation. We must 
 
 preserve it^'s life. We regret the desolation which the 
 war must bring upon the South, but we owe a duty 
 to posterity and to mankind. W^e must preserve the 
 life of the nation. We are resolved to preserve it 
 with our blood." 
 
 " I thought so at Manassa — in the morning. It was 
 not so clear at night." 
 
 " We failed once. But we shall succeed in the end. 
 A just cause must succeed." 
 
 *• You have a surer ground for confidence, perhaps, 
 than the justice of your cause. I wish you had not." 
 
160 ROEBUCK. 
 
 "What is that, pray?" 
 
 "Tlie fact that tlie just cause is seldom successful in 
 war. The Reverend Mr. Ambler thinks this is be- 
 cause Providence would admonish good men to avoid 
 war by teaching them that if a righteous cause cannot 
 be upheld by reason, it cannot be enforced with the 
 sword. I only see that, as a rule, the big dog whips 
 the little one, and that dogs are usually insolent and 
 unjust in proportion to their size." 
 
 " Do you not believe that Providence awards vic- 
 tory in accordance with justice ?" 
 
 "Kyd, the pirate, had victories. England con- 
 quered India. TVe have exterminated the American 
 Indians. Victors have dined on minced missionary. 
 Brutus died for liberty, and Cesar had the empire. 
 Kapoleon was the genius of victoiy — was he a man 
 aft«r God's own heart? Did Providence change 
 sides at Waterloo ? We must not turn Pagans." 
 
 '' At all events, you will see the amazing energy of 
 our government displayed in suppressing the re- 
 bellion." 
 
 " A government, in caasing to be five, may display 
 terrific energy, like a steam-boiler in exploding." 
 
 " But our government does not cease to be free." 
 
 " Has not the habeas corpus been suspended by a 
 Presidential edict — the chief justice flouted by a mili- 
 tary ofiicer — newspapers suppressed — legislatures bro- 
 ken up — citizens imprisoned — laws defied? Youi 
 government cannot subjugate the South without first 
 enslaving the North." 
 
 " We shall return to the bulwarks of liberty aftei 
 suppressing the rebellion." 
 
 ''^ Nulla vestigia retrorsum.'' 
 
 *' Let us have another game of chess, doctor." 
 
ROEBUCK. 1G7 
 
 Mr. Campbell was not satisfied that the lumuious 
 opniiou delivered by Caleb correctly represented pub- 
 lic scutiment in the African branch of Southern so- 
 ciety. His professional curiosity pricked him to pry 
 into the thoughts and feelings of the slaves. He 
 deemed it his duty also to enlighten them on the great 
 question of their own destiny, if he found them be- 
 nighted like .Caleb. His philanthropy was as med- 
 dlesome and egotistical as his civi'iosity. Being 
 troubled with no scruples of honesty or honor, and 
 having set up a Deity in his own image, he persuaded 
 himself that he would be doing God service in sowing 
 dissension between his host and his servants by ex- 
 citing delusive aspirations in the minds of the credu- 
 lous negroes. Before he had been long at Roebuck 
 he conceived the ambitious and atrocious design of 
 serving the Northern cause by fomenting a servile in- 
 surrection. Under the influence of those motives he 
 sought opportunities to converse with the slaves at 
 lioebuck and on other estates. As he rode about 
 at his pleasure, ho found such opportunities without 
 difficulty. Being conscious, however, of an ilUcit and 
 odious purpose, he avoided observation, and gave to 
 his intercourse with the servants a clawdestine charac- 
 ter. He supposed it was quite unknown to the per- 
 sons whose hospitality he enjoyed. His interviews 
 with some of the negroes who have become known to 
 tlie reader may be briefly described. 
 
 He found old Valentine sunning himself one morn- 
 ing before his cabin, and after some questions about 
 his health, age and recollections, inquired if the old 
 man knew that the negroes would all soon be set 
 free. 
 
 "Den God help us, poor uiggers," ejaculated 
 
168 ROEBUCK. 
 
 Valentine. " What will beconie of us if we lose our 
 masters? AVho will take keer of old fellers like 
 me V 
 
 *' But your children and grandchildren — ^think of 
 their good." 
 
 "Dey's mighty well off, master. We's all niggers, 
 and we wants white folks to take keer of us. We 
 ain't got no sense to take care of om-selves. God help 
 us if dey sets us free." 
 
 Mr. Campbell passed on, attributing these craven 
 and servile sentiments to senility which he could not 
 enlighten. Again, he was riding past a shop in which 
 a likely young fellow was at vrork. 
 
 '• How are you, my man," he said, '' what is your 
 name?" 
 
 " Bob, sir ; dey calls me carpenter Bob, for short.'* 
 
 " What pay do you get, Robert, for the Avork you 
 are doing?" 
 
 " Pay, master ? I belongs to Colonel Fred." 
 
 " Does he pay you nothing for your work ?" 
 
 " V/hat for would he pay me when I belongs to 
 him?" 
 
 '• He ought to pay you, I think." 
 
 "Y/hat make?" 
 
 *' Because no man ought to labor for nothing." 
 
 " I don't v/ork for nothin'. I gits as much as I 
 wants off n dis big plantation. I don't pay master 
 nothin' for tendin' to it." 
 
 " If you were free you could go North, and get 
 good wages as a mechanic." 
 
 " Would 1 have a big plantation, like dis one, to 
 live on ?" 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but you don't own this one." 
 
 " It sarves me mighty well. I ain't agwiu© to leave 
 it, sai'tiu sure, sir." 
 
ROEBUCK. 169 
 
 When Campbell fell in with Joe, he thought that 
 head-man more intelligent than Bob, until he touched 
 his favorite theme. Joe denounced the idea of sepa- 
 rating himself from his master as basely disloyal. 
 
 " Why," he said, " my folks has belonged to de 
 Fairfaxes since de very first man. We's all Fair- 
 faxes. We's always been Fairfaxes. We's always 
 agwine to be Fairfaxes. What would Master Fred 
 do widout Joe '? I toated him and played wid him 
 when he was a boy. I was wid him when he was at 
 de University. I went a courtin' wid him. I's bin 
 his 'pendence all his life. My children's bin wid his 
 children. We's jis like brothers, only he's white and 
 I's black ; and he's master and I's sarvant, dat's all 
 de difference 'twixt Master Fred and old Joe." 
 
 " Well, Joe, I was only trying you. I see you are 
 faithful. You need not say anything about this con- 
 versation." 
 
 " No, master, only to Master Fred. We tells ono 
 another everything." 
 
 Campbell encountered Juba dodging about, and 
 found that this broad-shouldered, bullet-headed, bel- 
 ligerent brother, by dint of meditation in the woods, 
 had solved the question of the negro's destiny in a 
 different fashion. He listened to a long harangue of 
 Campbell in silence, fixing his eyes upon a fence-post 
 with that look of profound imbecility and unobservant 
 attention which none but a negro can give, and then, 
 without shifting the conspicuous whites of his eyes, he 
 propounded his conclusion : 
 
 " It seems to me as ef dis was a white man's fight 
 over de nigger. All de nigger is got to do wid it is 
 to lay in de bush till de white folks is done fou't it 
 out. Den, which whips, de nigger he comes out'u de 
 
 8 
 
170 ROEBUCK. 
 
 bush and takes his sheer. Ef dc Rebels whips, den we 
 gits our corn and bacon, jis so. Ef de Yankees whips, 
 den dey gives de land to de niggers, and de nigger 
 what stays here, he gits de first slice. I stays here." 
 
 Campbell found by his African explorations, that 
 either from affection or apathy or stupidity or tim- 
 idity, or from obscm-e motives which they could not 
 explain, the negroes generally were at that time in- 
 clined to remain with their owners, or, at least, were 
 not inclined to make any adventurous effort to change 
 their condition. In a few cases, however, the teach- 
 ing of the philanthropist took root in the minds of the 
 slaves and bore fiTiit after the kind, not precisely of 
 the doctrine but of the negro. "When Campbell had 
 been for some time delving in this mine of black dia- 
 monds, his work was suddenly interrupted. Colonel 
 Faii'fax had, of couise, become aware of his frequent 
 interviews with his own slaves and others, but attri- 
 buted them to the natural curiosity of a stranger or 
 the professional curiosity of Bombyx. He did not 
 suspect him of abusing the privileges of hospitality for 
 unworthy purposes. He casually remarked to his 
 guest^ — " I see, Mr. Campbell, you have been amusing 
 yourself with talking to the servants on the planta- 
 tion." 
 
 " Never, colonel — you must not believe the tales of 
 the negroes." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the colonel, with surprise, 
 " do I understand you to deny that you have con- 
 versed with the negroes." 
 
 " Never, except with the servants who came to our 
 chamber." 
 
 " Mr. Campbell, I was not complaining of your con- 
 duct. I said nothing about tales of the negroes. But 
 you surprise me." 
 
ROEBUCK. 171 
 
 "Do you susi:>ect me of falsehood, Colonel Fair- 
 fax r' 
 
 " I suspect nothing, Mr. Campbell. I know." The 
 coloncVs manner expressed his scorn of falsehood. 
 
 " Since I find myself an object of suspicion under 
 your roof, sir, I had better relieve your house of my 
 presence." 
 
 " You will use your own pleasure, sir." 
 
 Mr. Campbell, without unnecessary delay, took up 
 his quarters at the Swan tavern. The change had 
 become desirable to him, for it relieved him of some 
 obstacles to the prosecution of his main design. He 
 had been mshing to escape from the restraints of 
 Roebuck, when the accidental altercation with Colonel 
 Faii-fiix, and that gentleman's indignation at his false- 
 hood, opened the door. 
 
172 KOEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CONSPIRACIES. 
 
 A FEW days after Campbell established himself at 
 the Swan tavern a rumor began to be whisj^ered 
 through the neighborhood that the negroes were plot- 
 tiuc: an insuiTection. It was vasrue and without a 
 known origin. It gathered circumstances as it flcAV, 
 and suspicion supplied the defects of testimony. 
 Until then the slaves, where the invasion had not pen- 
 etrated, were quiet, submissive, and remarkably atten- 
 tive to their duties. Few attempted to escape, and 
 none to rebel. The war, and the general arming of 
 the dominant race impressed them with awe. But 
 experience had not yet proved what effect upon their 
 inllammable passions might be produced by the progress 
 of a vast conflict, waged, as they understood, by the 
 North for their deliverance. While it was beiieved 
 rtiat •^ei'vile insurrection was one of the agencies by 
 which the North expected to subjugate the South, a 
 rumor of commotion among the slaves might readily 
 cause anxiety. It was soon reported that there 
 had been midnight meetings of negroes — that there 
 had been secret intercourse between Campbell, Palmer 
 and blind Pete — that Pete Avas more active than ever 
 in his clandestine deaUngs with slaves by night. Sus- 
 picion fell upon Campbell because he was a " Yankee j' 
 it was promoted by a circumstantial story of his dis- 
 missal from Roebuck because he had tampered with 
 servants ; it was confirmed by exaggerated accounts 
 
ROEBUCK. 173 
 
 told by some of tlio negroes of his conversations with 
 them. Palmer's nativity, reserved habits and equivo- 
 cal eonduct had lost him the confidence of his neigh- 
 bors, and his position was fm'ther compromised by a 
 report that his son had deserted and gone over to the 
 enemy. These various rumors and suspicions pro- 
 duced uneasiness, which rapidly swelled into popular 
 agitation. 
 
 In fact, the ingenuity of Mr. Palmer was constantly 
 exercised by his plans for making the war subservient 
 to his interest and revenge, and by the embarrass- 
 ments which must beset a secret adherent of the 
 North, who, in a Southern community, ostensibly 
 though fointly supported the Southern cause. When 
 blind Pete visited him, as well in pursuance of his 
 own invitation as of the stipulution exacted by Baxter 
 at a rope's end, a negotiation took place in which the 
 trained intelligence of the retired merchant outwitted 
 the purblind cunning of the vulgar knave. Pete was 
 led to reveal, not only the whole transaction of the 
 Bugar-tongs, but the apprehension which he felt that 
 the Northern stranger would be less indulgent than 
 the good-natured Southerners, who so often winked 
 at his pilfering in compassion for his blindness. By 
 playing upon this fear and by a liberal bribe, Palmer 
 enlisted Pete in his secret service. He thus established 
 an espionage upon the families of his neighbors and an 
 agency which might be turned to account in the pro- 
 secution of schemes yet unhatched. Through this 
 channel he was informed of Campbell's position at 
 Roebuck and was enabled to estimate his character. 
 He wished to open communication with him, but was 
 too cautious to attempt it until the guest had removed 
 from Roebuck to the tavern. Soon after that event 
 
174 ROEBUCK. 
 
 he commissioned Pete to convey a private intimation 
 to Campbell that Mi*. Palmer desired to consult him 
 confidentially, and would be pleased to receive a visit 
 from him at his own house by night. The invitation 
 was accepted, and thus at a late hour one night those 
 two natives of the North were sitting in Mr. Palmer's 
 parlor, with the doors locked and the wind«3w-shut- 
 ters closed. 
 
 " I have now intrusted you," Mr. Palmer was say- 
 ing, " with a candid exposition of my real sentiments 
 respecting the rebellion, and of the urgent reasons for 
 disguising them at present. May I rely upon your 
 friendship to make this explanation in the proper 
 quarters when you return to the North ? I hope my 
 conduct and motives will be kindly appreciated there. 
 If the forces of the Union should hereafter reach this 
 part of Vu'ginia, as of course they will, it may be de- 
 sirable that the commander shall be informed of my 
 views, but you will perceive that, for the benefit «f 
 our cause, it may even then be prudent for him to re*- 
 tain the knowledge in his own breast." 
 
 '• I understand you, I believe," responded Campbell, 
 drily. 
 
 " Then there is a report cm-rent that my son Albert, 
 who was a quarter-master in the State service for a 
 short time, has resigned his oflSce, and visited the 
 Union lines. You may meet him at the North, and, 
 I believe, you will find that he is as loyal as I am. 
 Possibly he will desire to enter the Federal service. 
 If you can promote his plans in any way, you will 
 oblige me by doing so, and will render service, no 
 doubt, to the cause." 
 
 " I understand you." 
 
 " Then may I count upon your friendly offices V* 
 
ROEBUCK. 175 
 
 "That question, Mr. Palmer, must be answered 
 with solemn reference to my paramount duty as a 
 loyal citizen of the United States. When you solicit 
 the favor of our benign government it appears to me 
 that you may reasonably be required to give some 
 tangible proof of your loyalty. This is a most wicked 
 rebellion, and neutrality is a great oflfence." 
 
 " What can I do here and now for the Union 1" 
 
 " Much. You have a glorious field for usefulness 
 in yom- situation. The confidence reposed in you by 
 your rebel neighbors, under the belief that you sympa- 
 thize with them, will enable you to operate efiect- 
 ively, secretly and safely. You have a glorious op- 
 portunity." 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " There is in the South a population of four mil- 
 lions who should be loyal supporters of the Union 
 cause. They requu'e only to be stimulated and 
 guided- Why are they not summoned to the aid of 
 those arms which are to strike from their limbs the 
 manacles of bondage? They are within the rebel 
 camp. They sleep in the citadel. They could grasp 
 the keys. They can disband Southern armies, by de- 
 stroying Southern homes. If they have not guns, 
 there is the knife and the torch. Many of them are 
 around you. With them you can serve the Union." 
 
 '- Would you resort to servile insurrection — to uni- 
 versal massacre — to the assassination of families — to 
 tlie violation of women — to the murder of innocent 
 children — to" 
 
 " Enough, Mr. Palmer. In a word, all means are 
 lawful to suppress this unprovoked, this wicked, this 
 atrocious rebellion against the best government the 
 world ever saw. It is a rebellion of slave-holders. It 
 
176 ROEBUCK. 
 
 is fit that we cry havoc, and let slip the slaves. If 
 they are savage, let those who have made them savage 
 by oppression pay the penalty." 
 
 " Mr. Campbell, you chill my blood with horror." 
 
 " Then, sir, your loyalty is hypocrisy." 
 
 " Why, the Federal government has solemnly de- 
 clared that the war is not waged to interfere with tlie 
 institution of slavery." 
 
 '•'Politic words! Words! The government ad- 
 vances before the swelling breeze of popular feeling. 
 Hostihty to slavery is the master passion of the 
 Northern heart. This was the prime cause of the war. 
 By inexorable logic the abolition of slavery must be a 
 consequence of the war. The government must in- 
 tend the necessaiy result of its own action. They are 
 blind who do not foresee the end. The North sees 
 it and therefore sustains the war. Press and pulpit, 
 by turns masters or slaves of opinion, are fimously 
 hostile to slavery and slave-holders. A servile insur- 
 rection would be hailed there with more enthusiasm 
 than ever was the name of John Brown. Be not de- 
 luded by politic professions of the government. Chiefs 
 of administration are known to believe that the name 
 of John Brown has become historical as a martyr in 
 the cause of human nature. Whoever most resem- 
 bles him is most faithful to the instincts of this war." 
 
 '' Old John Brown ! It cannot be true that a 
 Christian government approves his desperate charac- 
 ter and diabolical design." 
 
 " All good Christians at the North revere him as a 
 martyr." 
 
 "But he was hung," said Palmer, not pleased with 
 the precedent. 
 
 " What, then t He is canonized. If you would ba 
 
ROEBUCK. 177 
 
 a saint, be a man. Defy the slave power. Stir up 
 the slaves. Recognize your mission." 
 
 "You are mistaken in your estimate of the negi'oes. 
 We who have lived long among them know them 
 better. They are inert and cowardly. The love of 
 liberty is not in them, as in the white race, an aspir- 
 ing and unconquerable passion, but a languid love of 
 case. They failed John Brown." 
 
 "But then they were not encouraged by a power- 
 ful government and an invincible army." 
 
 " Perhaps the recent event at Manassa may not en- 
 courage them." 
 
 "Mr. Palmer, are you loyal or disloyal to the 
 Union?" 
 
 " Loyal, Mr. Campbell, loyal to the core. I have 
 humbly ventured to suggest difficulties which oc- 
 curred to my mind. But if there is really anything 
 that I can do for the Union cause, I am ready to do 
 it." 
 
 " On no other condition will I consent to represent 
 you as a loyal citizen, or to interest myself in the for- 
 tunes of your son." 
 
 Pressed by such considerations, Palmer finally con- 
 sented to lend himself to a scheme which he believed 
 to be dangerous to himself, impracticable and atro- 
 cious. He compromised with his conscience and his 
 prudence by resolving that he would do no more than 
 might be absolutely necessary to satisfy Campbell, 
 and by assuring himself that the project could have 
 no important result. He promised to ascertain the 
 temper of the negroes, and report to Campbell. That 
 gentleman, returning to his room in the tavern, rumi- 
 nated coming events which would immortalize his 
 name, and furnish material for several telling letters 
 
 8* 
 
178 ROEBUCK. 
 
 to the " Comet." Already his brain began to flame 
 Avith the composition of amazing paragraphs, and daz- 
 zling rows of capitals danced before his mind's eye, 
 like rustling banners of triumph. 
 
 Mr. Palmer sought an early opportunity to signify 
 to blind Pete, with cautious circumlocution, that he 
 desired to learn w^hether -any of the slaves were 
 ambitious to become free, and what exertions they 
 were inclined to make, or what risks they were pre- 
 pared to run for that object. He wished to leave that 
 blind rogue in doubt whether the inquiry was intended 
 in the interest of the North or of the South — of slave- 
 holders or of abolitionists. But Pete was astute 
 enough to resolve that doubt by laying together 
 various circumstances which had come to his know- 
 ledge. He insinuated his conviction of the truth, and 
 declared that the service in which Mr. Palmer pro- 
 posed to employ him would be attended with extreme 
 danger to himself By insisting upon his real or 
 aftected fear, he extorted a larger bribe than he had 
 ever before ventured to demand. As Mr. Palmer was 
 also called upon to supply the necessities of Mr. Camp- 
 bell, his purse was now subject to a double drain in 
 consequence of his loyalty. Moreover he was kept in 
 an agony of apprehension. He had little confidence 
 in the negroes, and less in Pete. He dreaded every 
 moment that his perilous plot might explode to his 
 own ruin. 
 
 He had sold all his slaves except two men and the 
 wife and children of one of them. This one was a 
 dull, stupid fellow, named Gabe, who was retained 
 because his master was obliged to keep at least one 
 man-servant, and thought this doltish creatm-e would 
 not run away. The other man, whose name was 
 
ROEBUCK. 179 
 
 Mike, was a shrewd, restless, unmanageable negro. 
 lie had been "in the bash'* for several months. 
 During his absence his family had been sold and sent 
 Southward. He resented this transaction, as well as 
 the sharp discipline to which he had submitted before 
 he took to the woods. He expected, if he should be 
 caught, to be sold also and sent to the Cotton States. 
 To avoid this fate, Mike conceived a plan of escaping 
 into the Federal lines with such of the neighboring 
 negroes as he could induce to join him. With their 
 aid he desired, before leaving the country, to procure 
 money, and, perhaps, to gratify his resentment. He 
 was hatching this project while his master was med- 
 dling with a more atrocious plot. Mike was tam- 
 pering with blind Pete to further his own scheme, 
 while Pete was tampering with him in pursuance of 
 his engagement with Mr. Palmer. Mike sought an 
 interview with Campbell, and affecting to adopt his 
 views, obtained such information and assistance as he 
 thought necessary to his own plan. He was quite too 
 shrewd to believe in the success of a servile insurrec- 
 tion. He and two or three other negroes who were 
 conspiring with him or with Pete or with Campbell — 
 they scarcely knew with whom or for what — obtained 
 some fire-arms through Pete's illicit traffic. They 
 had an old musket, two shot-guns, with broken locks, 
 and a pistol. Mike supposed that these weapons 
 might be useful in perpetrating a robbery or in taking 
 vengeance on an obnoxious master, or in defending 
 the fugitives on their route of escape. 
 
 The black chiefs of the conspiracy held a council. 
 They sat in an old tobacco-barn, near the edge of a 
 wood, remote from any habitation. The time was 
 midnight, and the moon had just risen. The barn 
 
180 ROEBUCK. 
 
 had long been disused and had fallen into decay. It 
 was built of round logs with the bark on them. The 
 roof was of elap-boards. The bark was hanging in 
 black flakes from the logs, and the roof was all gone, ' 
 excei)t a few of the rafters which sprawled hke spiders' 
 legs in the moonlight overhead. The door had 
 been carried away, and the frame in which it had 
 stood, being rotten, ceased to uphold the ends of the 
 logs, and these, swaying downward, left a wide, rag- 
 ged hole in the side of the barn. The assemblage 
 Avithin, mottled with patches of moonlight and of 
 shadow, numbered four persons. They w^ere squatted 
 upon the ground. Mike presided on a flat stone. 
 The other three were two slaves of Mr. Eckles, named 
 Jake and Cato, and a slave of Mrs. Fitzhugh, called 
 Hannibal. Jake and Cato had been, like Mike, for 
 some time in the bush. Cato was a timid, crouching 
 fellow, but Jake w^as a stout, fierce, savage-looking 
 negro, with the marks of severe treatment on his per- 
 son. Hannibal had been corrupted by the laxity of 
 discipline at Willow^bank, under the administration of 
 a woman, and roaming about in idleness, he had fallen 
 in with the other sable conspirators. 
 
 " Now, boys," said President Mike, " we's a gwine 
 to hold a council to see what we's a gwine to do. 
 What you all gwine to do now V* 
 
 " I's a gwine to stop in de bush," responded Cato, 
 " 'case it's de nighest to git somethin' to eat from de 
 t'other niggers." 
 
 " I want to run off to de Yankees," said Hannibal, 
 " 'case it's de fiirdest off to cotch us." 
 
 "What's we done got dem guns for?'* inquired 
 Cato, "dat's what I want to know. I's afeard'of 
 guns. Dat's what." 
 
ROEBUCK. 181 
 
 "You're a fool," growled Jake, " guns is to shoot." 
 
 " Dem guns won't shoot nobody," pronounced the 
 president. 
 
 " Dey must shoot somebody," said Jake. 
 
 " Who V cried all the others. 
 
 " Old Eckles." 
 
 " O Lord," exclaimed Cato, with alanii, " ef dar's 
 shootin', I's off." 
 
 " I'd shoot everybody," rejoined Jake, " let's raise 
 all de niggers." 
 
 " How many kin you raise f asked the president. 
 
 "Lots." 
 
 " Has you axed 'em "?" 
 
 " Yes, I done ax 'em." 
 
 " How many of 'em promised to raise V* 
 
 " Two ; me and another feller." 
 
 " What did de rest of 'em say V 
 
 " I was afeard to ax 'em, afeard dey'll blab. But 
 Yankee Campbell says there's lots of 'em ready." 
 
 " Yankee Campbell is a liar," declared the presi- 
 dent. 
 
 " Dat's jis what he is," chimed in Cato and Hanni- 
 bal. 
 
 " Hush! Somebody's a comin'," whispered Cato. 
 
 " You's a coward," said Mike, " go to de door and 
 watch." When this order was obeyed by the trem- 
 bling Cato, the president continued : " Now, Jake, 
 you'l a fool. You's all fools. Ts got all de sense. 
 You see de moonshine comin' down through dem 
 rafters. Dat's de way de sense shines down through 
 my head. Ts de Moses to lead you all out'n de house 
 of bondage. Mind me. To-morrow night I'll lead 
 you away to de land of promise. But first we must 
 git some money and things. We's a gwine to Wil- 
 
182 ROEBUCK. 
 
 lowbank. Do ole woman dar lias got piles of money 
 and silver things. Yon know dat, Hannibal." 
 
 " Yes ; but she keeps 'era locked up in a chis in her 
 own room, and she sleeps up stairs wid 'em since de 
 war." 
 
 " Well," said Mike, " we'll git into her room and 
 break open the chis." 
 
 " But you mustn't hurt missus," cried Hannibal. 
 
 " No ; she shan't be hurt." 
 
 *' We'll rob de chis, but you mustn't hurt missus." 
 
 " Xow mind me, Jake, you bring Cato and meet me 
 at de Poplar Spring to-morrow, jis when it gits dark. 
 Hannibal, you go to Willowbank, and git inside to 
 open de door. We'll be dar at 'leven o'clock. Now, 
 mind me, I'm Moses." 
 
 " A ghose — a ghose" — shouted Cato, and took to 
 his heels. Jake and Hannibal ran out of the barn, and 
 being also frightened at a ghost or a man, followed 
 the sentinel. Mike, who had given them their or- 
 ders, and thus accomplished all that he designed, did 
 not attempt to detain them, though he stood his 
 ground. Presently blind Pete advanced fi*om the 
 wood, and a long consultation took place between 
 him and Mike, of which it is necessary to record only 
 that Pete as^reed to be at a certain strove near the 
 mansion of Willowbank, with his cart, on the next 
 evening, in consideration that he should receive a 
 certain share of the spoils ; that he was to take with 
 him three pistols and some saddles, which the negroes 
 were to use in mounting themselves on stolen horses ; 
 that he was to be accompanied by two men, who 
 had agreed with Mike to run away, and that the spoil 
 was to be carried to a convenient spot for division, 
 and the plate reduced to a suitable form for trans- 
 portation by the fugitives. 
 
ROEBUCK. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 INSURRECTION. 
 
 The next morning — it was Sunday — when Colonel 
 Fairfax walked out upon the lawn in front of his 
 house, he saw a large number of his slaves collected 
 in clusters about the grounds, and discovered at once 
 that there was agitation among them. . Presently Joe 
 advanced as then* spokesman, and informed his mas- 
 ter that the servants were in great alarm on account 
 of rumors which they understood were afloat. The 
 rumors were that the negroes were plotting insurrec- 
 tion, and that some of the white men had organized 
 themselves as a committee of vigilance, to suppress 
 the conspiracy. They feared the violence of these 
 men, acting, as they believed, under a groundless 
 panic. The Colonel was aware that such panics were 
 usually attended with danger to the negroes. The 
 greatest excitement was apt to inflame the minds of 
 those who owned few or no slaves. Owners of many 
 slaves, living among them, could easily bring all ru- 
 mors of servile commotion to the test of actual obser- 
 vation, and, besides, they felt bound by interest and 
 duty to protect their servants against the efi'ects of 
 incautious suspicion. Others who had not the same 
 opportunity of knowledge, nor the same responsi- 
 bility, allowed their imaginations to be stuflTed with 
 unsifted reports and horrid alarms. Colonel Fairfax 
 had already heard some of the rumors which were ia 
 cii'culation, and after listening to Joe, he said — 
 
184 roebuck:. 
 
 " Well, Joe, what do you think about this insurrec- 
 tion?" 
 
 " Lord, master, da won't be no resurrection of nig- 
 gers, sure?" 
 
 " I wish to talk with some of the other boys about 
 it." 
 
 '• Dey will be mighty glad, master." 
 
 The colonel went among them, and conversed with 
 many of them, separately and together. Being tho- 
 roughly acquainted with their habits, he was able to 
 glean from them all they knew or believed, and to de- 
 termine what was true. Indeed his servants, having 
 confidence in his justice, seldom attempted to deceive 
 him, unless it might be by that sort of exaggeration 
 which a negro regards as but a decent dress of naked 
 truth. He became convinced that there was no 
 danger of an insurrection. He promised his servants 
 the protection which they desu'ed, and admonished 
 them to keep closely to their work in day-time, and 
 to their cabins at night. 
 
 At the church, that day, he heard of popular excite- 
 ment and of prepai-ations which threatened violence 
 to the negroes. He exerted all his influence with the 
 people whom he met, to allay the excitement, and to 
 discourage rash action. When he returned home, 
 his anxiety on the subject was so great that, after 
 dinner, he rode out in search of the persons who 
 were reported to be engaged in the lawless organiza- 
 tion for the suppression of insurrection. He had not 
 gone far from home, when he met half a dozen men 
 on horseback, armed ^^th fowling-pieces and pistols. 
 He knew them to be ignorant persons of intiammable 
 tempers, and they were manifestly under great ex- 
 citement. One of them, who seemed to be a ring- 
 
ROEBUCK, 185 
 
 leader was our acquaintance, Bob Faris, who had not 
 yet executed his purpose to enter the army and figlit 
 for the principles of free government. On meeting 
 Colonel Fairf^ix they addressed him civilly, though 
 abruptly. They asked what steps he had tak en to 
 prevent his negroes from joining in the projected in- 
 surrection. He told them that he did not believe 
 there was any such plot, and that, having no fear of 
 his servants, he had done nothing but advise them to 
 remain quiet at home, until the agitation should sub- 
 side. They angrily rebuked his negligence, an- 
 nounced themselves as a volunteer patrol for the regu- 
 lation of negi'oes and abolitionists, informed him that 
 they had conclusive proofs of a wide-spread con- 
 spiracy, with Yankee leaders, and finally declared 
 they were going to examine his slaves, and arrest all 
 of them whom they might find to be accomplices. 
 He remonstrated, and reasoned with them upon the 
 impropriety of their conduct, the folly of their fears, 
 and the mischiefs they were about to cause. He ad- 
 vised them to abandon their lawless organization, and 
 appeal to the magistrates in due form. Their minds 
 were too highly inflamed to listen to reason, and in 
 the face of such imminent and hon-ible danger as 
 they fancied, they would not await the slow operation 
 of law. He then offered to pledge himself for the 
 good behavior of his servants, and besought the 
 ])atrol not to molest his family and dependents with 
 their inquisition. They professed respect for him 
 and his family, but insisted that he was deluding him- 
 self with misplaced reliance on the fidelity of his 
 slaves, and they felt bound to proceed. " Then, gen- 
 tlemen," he said, firmly, " let me warn you that you 
 will encounter resistance. I will protect my servants. 
 
196 ROEBUCK. 
 
 I have arms." He turned his horse's head homeward, 
 and left them. Before he was out of hearing, Bob 
 Faris called him back, and informed him that they had 
 consulted together and concluded, out of respect for 
 him, not to visit his plantation that evening. They 
 Fwore, however, that Palmer, the old abolition- 
 ist, should not escape. They rode off toward that 
 part of the county in which Palmer resided. 
 
 Colonel Fau-fax, thus apprised that there was dan- 
 ger of violence to that gentleman, sat a few minutes 
 considering how it might be averted. It was nearly 
 dark. He was reluctant to go so fai- from his own 
 house as to Palmer's while the neighborhood was 
 disturbed. But he could think of no other way to 
 prevent a disgraceful if not fatal scene. As any de- 
 lay might defeat his pm*pose, he set off at once, rid- 
 ing rapidly, and taking a by-path which saved some 
 distance and enabled him to pass the patrol without 
 being seen. In little more than an hour he arrived 
 at Mr. Palmer's house. That gentleman received him 
 with sm-prise and embarrassment. He was not aware 
 of the danger in which he stood at that moment, but 
 he was conscious of participation in a scheme which 
 might prove perilous to his visitor. The latter pro- 
 ceeded at once to make known the circumstances 
 which induced his visit, and expressed the opinion 
 that the regulators would be at the door in a few 
 minutes. He added a hope that he might be able to 
 dissuade them from violence, but advised Mr. Palmer 
 to retire from the house for a short time, offering to 
 remain with the family and save them from insult. 
 But Palmer, whose domestic affections were strong, 
 and who did not lack courage to defend his house- 
 hold, refused to leave his family. He told his wife 
 
ROEBUCK. 18T 
 
 and (laughters of the danger, and directed them to re- 
 main quiet in their chambers, whatever might happen. 
 The colonel avowed his readiness to assist in defend- 
 ing the house and person of Mr. Palmer. The latter 
 brought out his arms — two revolving pistols and a 
 double-barrelled fowling piece loaded with buckshot. 
 All the weapons were kept loaded, in anticipation of 
 trouble, which was constantly apprehended by the 
 owner of them. The hasty preparations for defence 
 were scarcely completed when the tramp of horses 
 was heard. 
 
 The horsemen quickly dismounted and posted them- 
 selves in preconcerted order about the house, to pre- 
 vent the escape of Palmer. Paris then drew hear 
 the front door and knocked at it for admittance. Mr. 
 Palmer opened a window and would have spoken, 
 but the colonel drew him back and requested permis- 
 sion to try his influence with the patrol. Looking 
 out of the window, he said — 
 
 " Paris, what do you want f 
 
 " Heavens 1" exclaimed Paris, " Colonel Fred's here 
 too." 
 
 " Yes, I am here before you, and I am still deter- 
 mined to prevent you from disgracing yourselves by 
 lawless violence. Now tell me what you intend to do f 
 
 " We want the old abolitionist, and we will have 
 him, colonel." 
 
 "Wliat has he doner 
 
 " He's at the bottom of the insurrection." 
 
 "How do you know that?" 
 
 " A nigger confessed it all." 
 
 "I suppose the negro was in the hands of your 
 patrol V 
 
 " Of course he was." 
 
188 ROEBUCK. 
 
 '* You flogged him to make liim confess V* 
 
 '• Of coui-se we did." 
 
 '' On the extorted confession of a negro you pro- 
 ceed to this outrage, then I" 
 
 " We know his story's true." 
 
 " How can you know it? If you are so sure of it, 
 go to a magistrate and get a legal warrant. Shame 
 on such lawlessness!" 
 
 " Colonel, it's no use talking. We are bound to 
 have him out." 
 
 ''Then you must take me first. Beware I You 
 are in more danger than Mr. Palmer." 
 
 At this moment screams of women were heard in 
 the house. During the parley one of the besiegers, 
 tempted by an unfastened sash, entered a back win- 
 dow. Hurrying forward in the dark, he opened the 
 door of Mi-s. Palmer's chamber and rushed in. The 
 ladies screamed, and ^Mi's. Palmer ran to the parlor 
 in which the gentlemen were, followed by the in- 
 truder. As soon as he appeared, Mr. Palmer fired a 
 pistol at him, but missed him. The intruder attempted 
 to seize that gentleman, at the same time brandishing 
 a knife. As he turned towards Mr. Palmer, Colonel 
 Fau-fax grasped him round the body, lifted him from 
 the floor, carried him to the front window, which had 
 been opened, and hurled him out. He fell heavily to 
 the ground, and lay there, stunned by the fall. 
 
 All this ]Dassed so rapidly that Paris stood still at 
 the spot from which he had held the parley, and was 
 waiting for some explanation of the noise within the 
 house, when he saw his comrade hurled fi'om the 
 window. He imagined that the man had been killed 
 by the pistol-shot. He was afraid to approach the 
 window. He withdrew to a more remote part of the 
 
ROEBUCK.'' 189 
 
 grounds. After waiting a short time in vain for his 
 fallen comrade to rise and follow him, he began to 
 consider that the house Avas prepared for defence, 
 that the defence was resolute and might be desperate, 
 that it was conducted by a citizen of unblemished 
 reputation and great influence, and that in the end 
 tlie penalties of law might be enforced. lie there- 
 fore whistled the signal of retreat and drew off his 
 forces. Soon afterwards the man who had been 
 thrown from the window crawled away and followed 
 his comrades. 
 
 At first it could not be known how far they had 
 gone nor how soon they might return. It was some 
 time before the alarm of the ladies subsided. To 
 assure them of safety and to resist another attack, if 
 another should be made. Colonel Fairfax remained 
 until a late hour of the night. When all danger 
 appeared to be over, the colonel, now anxious for the 
 security of his own home, Avas about to depart. The 
 ladies were profuse in expressions of gratitude to 
 him. Mrs. Palmer paid out a neat little speech, 
 redolent of fine sentiments and garnished with scraps 
 of Latin. Even Mr. Palmer so far overcame the 
 restraints of habitual reserve and conscious turpitude 
 as to thank the colonel quite warmly. He accom- 
 panied him out of the door and detained him a 
 minute or two on the portico to repeat his gi-ateful 
 words. "While he was thus employed, a pistol was 
 fired in the shadow of one of the pillars of the por- 
 tico. A moment afterwards a negro man rushed from 
 the pillar and aimed a blow with a pistol at Mr. 
 Palmer's head. Colonel Fairfax, throwing up his 
 arm, intercepted the blow. The negro, foiled in both 
 his murderous attempts, ran past and soon disap- 
 
190 ROEBUCK/ 
 
 peared. Upon examination, it was found that a bul- 
 let had passed through the collar of Mr. Palmer's 
 coat, but he was unhurt. 
 
 "It was Mike," he remarked, but he offered no 
 conjecture as to the probable motive of the assault, 
 nor did he propose pursuit. This incident renewed 
 the agitation and alann of the ladies, and detained 
 the colonel still longer. At length he started home- 
 ward. 
 
 During his absence from Roebuck events had hap- 
 pened which it is necessaiy now to recount. On 
 Sunday afternoon his daughter, Julia, went two or 
 three miles from home to \-isit a poor woman who was 
 sick. Finding the woman quite ill she remained with 
 her until it was growing dark. Then, mounting her 
 horse — her favorite " Arab " — she started homeward 
 alone. Her road was little more than a bridle-path, 
 and led through the Bku*t of a wood by the spring 
 which was called the Poplar Spring, and which, it may 
 be remembered, i\Iike- had appointed as the place 
 where Jake and Cato were to meet him about tho 
 same hour that Julia was riding home. The spring 
 rose just beside the path and flowed across it. When 
 Julia Avas passing it her horse di'opped his head to 
 drink, and she permitted him to stop. While he was 
 drinking three negro men stepped into the path. One 
 of them seized the bridle ; the other two posted them- 
 selves at each side of the horse. Each of them cai'- 
 ried a club. They said nothing. She was surprised, 
 but she was not accustomed to fear negroes. Even 
 their formidable appearance and movement did not 
 deprive her of corn-age. Instantly drawing her rein, 
 she struck Ai-ab shai-ply with her riding-smtoh, in- 
 tending to break away from the fellow who held tho 
 
ROEBUCK. 191 
 
 bridle. The horse sprang forward, but the negro held 
 fast, and threw him back on his haunches. 
 
 " You better be quiet," he then said. She leaned 
 forward and struck him across the face with her 
 switch, saying, "Begone! how dare you*?" He 
 winced, but still held the bridle. 
 
 " Better be quiet, I tell you agin, Miss Fairfax ; 
 you shan't be hurt 5 close up dar, boys; don't let her 
 git away." 
 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 " I's Palmer's Mike. I don't keer who knows me, 
 but I won't tell you who dese other fellers is." 
 
 " What are you going to do with me V* 
 
 " Jis take you to a safe place." 
 
 " For what purpose ?'* 
 
 Mike made no reply. He set the party in motion, 
 turning from the road into the pathless wood, himself 
 holding the bridle and the other two men walking 
 close by the sides of the horse. They went on silently 
 for some time. Their progress was slow among the 
 trees and thickets. Their course led them into the 
 deepest part of the forest. Julia, ignorant of their 
 design and of her destination, a prisoner of three black 
 ruffians, could not wholly resist the depressing influ- 
 ence of these alarming circumstances. In the gloom 
 of night and of the wilderness her imagination was 
 filled with frightful visions of coming danger. She 
 watched in vain for some opportunity of escape. 
 Several times she attempted to converse with her cap- 
 tors and to learn her probable fate. Bat they main- 
 tained a sullen and ominous silence. Still her natural 
 courage was not quite subdued. By a vigorous effort 
 she kept her faculties in readiness for an emergency 
 or an opportunity, in spite of the quick heating of her 
 
192 ROEBUCK 
 
 heaii:. In the dense wood sometimes the low branches 
 of the trees almost swept her from her saddle. This 
 annoyance at last suggested to her a method of 
 escape. 
 
 A long, large limb, growing square out from the 
 body of a beech tree, at a height level with her chin 
 as she sat upright, was about to sti'ike her face in the 
 darkness. She happened to discover it in time to 
 throw her arms over it. In that way she lifted herself 
 out of the saddle and let her horse walk from beneath 
 her. She remained thus suspended in the air until the 
 negroes had passed on so far that she thought they 
 could not hear the noise of her movement, and then 
 she s^^T.mg herself along to the body of the tree, and 
 then, climbing above the limb, she sat upon it She 
 intended to remain there until her captors, who would, 
 doubtless, miss her very soon, should have failed in a 
 search for her and left the wood free for her escape. 
 In a few minutes they discovered that she was not 
 upon the hoi*se. Mike railed at his followers for their 
 negligence, and they were wholly unable to conjecture 
 how or where she had eluded their vigilance. They 
 all turned back and commenced a search for her in 
 every direction through the forest She could hear 
 them shouting to each other and sometimes consulting 
 together. Mike appeared to apprehend serious conse- 
 quences from hcH.- escape, and gave vent to his chagi'in 
 in curses. When they had been searching a long 
 time and seemed almost in despair of success, Mike, 
 still leading her horse, passed under the branch on 
 which she was perched. The sagacious and affection- 
 ate Arab raised his head and uttered the low whinny- 
 ing sound wliich is the natm'al note of recognition 
 and of pleasui-e with his kind. The attention of 3Iike 
 
ROEBUCK. 193 
 
 was instantly directed towards the tree, for he was 
 familiar with the habits of horses and knew the supe- 
 rior intelligence of Arab. lie began to pry among 
 the branches, and in a short time he discovered his 
 captive. She was compelled to descend and resume 
 her place in the saddle. Thenceforth the vigilance of 
 the guard was redoubled, and avoiding the darkest 
 parts of the forest, they moved along paths which 
 were known to the negroes. Now and then they 
 pansed and whispering consultations took place 
 among them, which Miss Fairfjxx was not permitted 
 to hear. Some of these conversations, however, 
 appeared to be on the point of running into violent 
 disputes between Mike and Jake, and she thought her 
 own name was repeated in tones of remonstrance or 
 of anger. How long a time or how far she had been 
 journeying in captivity she could not determine, when 
 Jake, who walked on her left, approached very close 
 to the horse, and laid his hand upon her arm. " Stand 
 back, villain!" she cried, and the cry aiTesting Mike, 
 he turned back towards her just as his ruffianly com- 
 rade seized Miss Fairfax by the waist. She screamed 
 and stniggled, but she wasjas child in the grasp of the 
 stout negro. Mike sprang at him, wrenched his hands 
 from Julia, and flung him upon the earth. His fol- 
 lower rose and rushed with fury at Mike, but the lat- 
 ter struck him on the head with his club and felled 
 him. Jake lay outstretched, as if he was dead, and 
 Mike, not knowing whether he was dead or alive, left 
 him and resumed the march. He took care, however, 
 to supply the place of the missing guard by his own 
 watchfulness, so that the captive could not escape. 
 
 Julia was unable to recognize any of the places 
 thi-ougU which she was carried, until, at length, they 
 
 9 
 
lai ROEBUCK. 
 
 came upon a road and she saw Marlin's cabin, which 
 they were about to pass. The sight of it revived her 
 hope of escape. When tliey came nearly opposite to 
 the cabin she suddenly struck her horse with all her 
 force, and at the same time called the name of Mrs. 
 Marlin. Arab bounded with such violence that he 
 overthrew IMike, but the determined fellow held fast 
 by the bridle and was dragged along the ground. She 
 repeated her blows until the spirited horse was plung- 
 ing frantically, but still Mike held on. She repeated 
 her cries also until Mrs. Marlin ran out of the cabin. 
 Awakened and startled by the voice of alarm, she 
 hm-ried towards her door and stumbled over a stool. 
 The accident, and her quick apprehension of danger, 
 l)rompted her to pick up the stool and carry it with 
 licr as a weapon of defence. Hastening into the road, 
 she recognized the voice and the horse of Julia, and 
 saw Cato running about her. Advancing to the rescue 
 of her friend, she gave Cato a vigorous blow with the 
 weapon she carried in her hand, and that timid rascal 
 rolled over in the dirt. He lay very quiet, aftecting 
 to be quite disabled. Mike, seeing the turn which 
 affairs had taken, let go the bridle, scrambled to his 
 feet and ran away. 
 
 Mi-s. Marlin then assisted Julia to alight. She was 
 much fetigued, and with the revulsion of feeling that 
 overcame her when she saw that she was free, she 
 became fiiut. The good woman led her into the 
 cabin, and she sat down to rest and recover her spirits 
 while Mrs. Marlin busied herself in getting a light, 
 bringing restoratives and preparing a bed. Eliza 
 also, aroused from the dreamless slumber of girlhood, 
 chattered her sympathy and flew about, eager to do 
 something: for Julia's comfoil. In a short time, how- 
 
ROEBUCK. 195 
 
 ever, the young lady declared herself able to ride, 
 and thanking her kind friends, she determined to 
 return home immediately. She knew that her father 
 and mother would be in great distress and alarm on 
 account of her absence, and she was anxious to re- 
 lieve them as soon as possible. Mrs. Marlin would 
 have persuaded her to take some repose, and offered 
 to ride to Roebuck herself. When she could not 
 prevail in tliis, she insisted on walking beside the 
 horse, as an escort for Julia. But Miss Fairfax 
 would not suffer her to undertake such a journey 
 afoot, and expressed her belief that she would be in 
 no further danger during that niglit. She had quite 
 recovered her courage and resolved to ride home 
 alone. But when she left the cabin for that purpose, 
 her horse was not to be found. Both he and Cato 
 had disappeared. 
 
 What then was to be done ? The distance to Roe- 
 buck was not less than six miles. Julia, whose 
 strength was almost exhausted by the events of the 
 night, was wholly unable to walk so far. Yet she 
 could not bear to leave her parents without intelli- 
 gence of her safety. After much discussion she was 
 about to accede to the proposal of Mrs. Marlin to 
 walk to Roebuck, when Eliza offered to go to Wil- 
 lowbank and procure a horse for Miss Fairfax. It 
 would be a walk of about two miles, and it might be 
 attended with some danger, as the occurrences of the 
 night had proved. But the warm-hearted girl desired 
 to serve lier friend, and the idea of danger rather 
 stimulated than daunted her. When the project had 
 taken possession of her lively little brain she did not 
 rest until she had brought her mother and Miss Fair- 
 fax to consent to it, and then she tripped away through 
 the darkness. 
 
106 PtOEBUCK. 
 
 Before there vr^s time for her to have sent a horse 
 from VrilloAvbank, a neigh wa3 heard by the women 
 in the caVin, and Julia, who was lying down, lifted 
 lier head and said, " that's Arab." They went out 
 and found that her horse had returned and was stand- 
 ing at the gate. Without further delay Julia mounted 
 him and turned his head homeward. Mrs. Marlin 
 walked half a mile with her, and then, as no sign of 
 danger appeared, and she was retarding the impatient 
 horse-woman, she was pei'suaded to return. The road 
 to Roebuck was rather obscure and rough, being but 
 little travelled. At night it was dreary. Julia rode 
 on, however, safely and pretty briskly, until she was 
 about two miles from the cabin. Then she was slowly 
 ascending a hill, and on turning round a jutting 
 j^oint, she saw a black man walking towards her 
 and already close to her horse's head. She did not 
 know the truculent Jake, but he recognized her, and 
 immediately seizing her bridle, raised his club. His 
 tlii'eatening movement startled her, but she did not 
 lose her presence of mind. Seeing that by no effort 
 could she escape, she determined to try the effect of 
 talking to the fellow. 
 
 " What do you want '?" she fisked. 
 
 " I want you," he answered, and instantly clutched 
 her arm in his great, rough hand. He dragged her 
 downward with such sudden violence that she fell 
 heavily to the ground. Jake stooped over hei* and 
 then paused. He heard the clatter of a horse's hoofs 
 on the road. He stood listening and looking until he 
 ascertained that a horseman, rapidly approaching, was 
 near at hand, and then he plunged from the road 
 down the hill-side into a Avood. lie left Miss Fairfax 
 lyiug almost insensible. When the horseman arrived 
 
ROEBUCK. 197 
 
 he leai>ecl from his saddle and knelt by her side. He 
 lifted her head and said, in a tone of tender anxiety — 
 " Julia, are you hurt V 
 
 Receiving no reply, he placed his arm about her, 
 drawing her head to his breast and said, " Julia, dear 
 Julia, tell me — are you hurt?' 
 
 She feebly answered, " no, not much." Presently 
 reviving somewhat, she added, " no, thank Heaven, I 
 am not hurt. I was frightened. My nerves are 
 shaken, but I feel no pain." After another pause she 
 continued, " I can rise now." 
 
 But he whispered, " rest a moment — you are not 
 yet strong enough." 
 
 Then looking up, she asked, " whom shall I thank 
 for this deliverance f and as the moon, gleaming 
 through the tree-tops, began to give some light, she 
 exclaimed — " it is Captain Fitzhugh." 
 
 " Yes, it is I," he replied. 
 
 " O, how thankful I am," she murmured. 
 
 With his assistance she rose and gtood a little while, 
 not without his support. Then, as she recovered her 
 strength, she blushed and withdrew from his arm, 
 saying she was able to ride. After assisting her to 
 her saddle. Captain Fitzhugh — no longer captain, 
 however, for the major of his regiment had died of 
 wounds received at Manassa and he had succeeded to 
 that "rank — mounted his horse and rode beside her 
 towards Roebuck. 
 
198 HOE BUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XVm. 
 
 LOVE AT TwOEBUCK. 
 
 Mike's principal plan embraced only a speedy flight 
 from the countiy after providing a good supply of 
 money or of portable plate and of horses. He thirsted 
 for a particular revenge, but he did not desu-e to com- 
 mit unnecessary acts of violence which might provoke 
 pursuit or subject him to severe retribution in the 
 event of his capture. When the evening arrived for 
 the execution of his project, he was not yet provided 
 with a horse such as he thought desirable for a rapid 
 flight, and he feared that those which were to be 
 brought to]^himj might not be very swift. When 
 !Miss Fairfax appeared at the Poplar Spring, riding an 
 animal which was reputed to be one of the fleetest in 
 the county, he was suddenly tempted to obtain posses- 
 sion of the horse. But he reflected that if he permit- 
 ted Miss Fahfax to go on to Boebuck after taking her 
 horse, the alarm which she would give might lead to 
 the defeat of his entire scheme. It occurred to him, 
 therefore, that it would be safer to carry her with him 
 and detain her in some secure place until he was ready 
 to set ofi'on his long journey. Besides, in attempting 
 to justify a rash act to himself, he conceived a vague 
 notion that she mis^ht be valuable as a hostas^e in cer- 
 tain contingencies. His conduct and his reasoning 
 were alike absui-d, and served to prove how incompe- 
 tent a negro is — even one comparatively shrewd — to 
 devise or execute any complicated scheme. Without 
 
ROEBUCK. 199 
 
 explaining to his followers, Jake and Cato, the object of 
 his proceeding, he gave them the orders which, as we 
 have seen, they executed until Jake, obeying his own 
 fissions, attempted an act of violence inconsistent 
 "svith Mike's plan. 
 
 When Mike fled from Marlin's cabin he hastened to 
 Willowbank. The hour which he had appointed for 
 meeting blind Pete in the grove was already past. 
 The two men upon whom Mike had relied, with the 
 assistance of Hannibal in the house, to execute the rob- 
 bery under his lead, were left behind. On arriving 
 before the mansion he deliberated whether he should 
 undertake the enterprise with no other aid than that 
 of his confederate, Hannibal. He anticipated no resis- 
 tance which they could not easily overcome. But he 
 feared that if any force should become necessary, Han- 
 nibal might fail to support him, or possibly might 
 oppose him. He therefore concluded to call in the 
 two men who were to accompany blind Pete. With 
 that view he proceeded to the grove and found Pete 
 with the two negroes. They had been greatly per- 
 plexed by Mike's delay, and were about to abandon 
 the enterprise and return to then* several haunts. He 
 ofiered them some plausible explanation of his deten- 
 tion and of the absence of Jake and Cato. He told 
 them of the treasure which was to be obtained in 
 the house, and enlisted them in the robbery. While 
 he was engaged in making this new arrangement, Cato 
 had mounted Arab at Marlin's cabin and followed 
 liim ; but when he came to Willowbank he could not 
 find his leader, and knowing nothing of the rendez- 
 vous at the grove, he turned back, and after riding 
 some distance, let the horse loose and took to the 
 woods. Arab, finding himself at liberty, went on to the 
 cabin. 
 
200 ROEBUCK. 
 
 Mike, followed by the two negro men whom he had 
 just enlisted in the scheme of burglary, approached 
 the front door of the house, expecting it to be opened 
 by Hannibal. The whole house was dark and quiet. 
 lie made a concerted sign at the door, but it was not 
 opened. He whispered the name of Hannibal through 
 tlie key-hole, but heard no response. He went along 
 the porch, and at every window endeavored to attract 
 the notice of his confederate. Still Hannibal gave no 
 answer. Mike had almost concluded that he had 
 tailed to fulfil his engagement when one of his men, 
 listening at the door, heard a loud snore within. Han- 
 nibal had stationed himself there at the appointed 
 hour, but during the delay which occurred he fell 
 asleep. Becoming convinced that he Avas there, Mike 
 was at a loss how to wake hun without arrousing all 
 the mmates. After scratching his woolly pate for 
 some time, he hit upon a plan. He found the old door 
 fitted its frame so ill that there was space for the in- 
 sertion of a small stick beneath it. He procured a 
 rod, sharpened it, and began to puncture the person 
 of the somnolent Hannibal. Partially awaking, that 
 sentinel uttered, " ugh, ugh," and sunk back into pro- 
 found sleep. But by perseverance in punching and 
 whispei'ing, Mike finally roused him up, and he opened 
 the door. While he stood rubbing his eyes the three 
 men who entered passed by him, groped their way 
 to the foot of the stairs and began to ascend. At that 
 moment they were startled by a light which appeared 
 at the head of the stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Fitzhugh being a nervous iiivalid, never slept 
 profoundly. She had heard almost the first sound made 
 by the negroes on the porch. AYhen it was repeated 
 she called her servant, Belle, a faithful negress, who 
 
ROEBUCK. 201 
 
 slept in the same room, and sent lier to ascertain the 
 cause of the noise. She retm*necl and reported lier 
 belief that robbers were trying to break into the house. 
 Her mistress made her light a candle at a taper which 
 was kept burning dimly in the chamber. Mrs. Fitz- 
 hugh rose and took down an old sword which hung 
 in the room and which had belonged to her deceased 
 husband. She directed Belle to arm herself with the 
 old lady's cane, and then the two women sallied out 
 of the chamber to the hoad of the stairs. The servant 
 set the candle on a stand in the hall and they peered 
 downward to discover what was passing at the front 
 door. It was then that Mike and his accomplices 
 started up the steps. 
 
 When they came into the light, Mrs. Fitzhugh, 
 seeing that they were negroes, sternly ordered them 
 to go back, and haughtily rebuked their insolence in 
 thus intruding into the house of a lady. They kept 
 on until they stood upon the landing of the stairs, a 
 few steps bqjow the two women, and focing them. 
 Mike then paused. It was part of his plan to avoid 
 fatal violehce, if possible. He saw that the women 
 were prepared to make resistance, and he knew the 
 proud and resolute spirit of Mrs. Fitzhugh. She 
 stood before him in her night-dress,^pale, emaciated 
 and feeble, but holding a sword and breathing scorn- 
 ful defiance. He did not doubt his ability to over- 
 come her resistance, but he hesitated to commence a 
 conflict in which blood might be shed. Perhaps, too, 
 the habitual ascendancy of the white race somewhat 
 cowed his spirit. But, after standing a short time, 
 the temptation of plunder or the reckless feeling that 
 he had gone too far to recede prevailed. He rushed 
 forward. The two men who had stood cowering be- 
 
 9* 
 
202 ROEBUCK. 
 
 hind him while he hesitated did not immediately fol- 
 low him. As he approached the head of the stairs 
 alone, Belle, who stood above him, stnick a blow with 
 the cane, which sent him swaying and staggering 
 back to the landing. He soon recovered his balance, 
 and enraged by the stroke, he called upon the ether 
 men to follow, and was about to ascend again. But 
 Hannibal, now fully awake, and hearing the noise of 
 conflict, cried from below — " you shan't hurt missus. 
 You promised you wouldn't hurt missus." The 
 worthless fellow, willing to rob his mistress if he 
 might share the spoil, had too much gratitude for the 
 indulgence which had ruined him, or was too faithful 
 to permit any j^ersonal injury to be inflicted upon 
 her. He i*an up the stairs with long strides, and 
 seizing one of the men by the throat, began to drag 
 him down. Just then another person unexpectedly 
 entered the scene. A white man ran up the steps, 
 and hurrying past the others, caught Mike, when he 
 had almost reached the floor above, and hurled him 
 back headlang to the landing. Snatching the sword 
 from Mrs. Fitzhugh, he iiiced about and descended 
 towards the negi'oes. They did not wait for him, but 
 leaped, rolled or tumbled down the stairs pell-mell, 
 and escaped, '-i" My dear Hugh ! My brave son ! 
 Thank God!" exclaimed Mrs. Fitzhugh. 
 
 There was not time after this aftair for many ex- 
 planations between her and her son, when Eliza Mar- 
 lin arrived on the eiTand she had undertaken for Miss 
 Fairfax. When her story had been briefly told, Mrs. 
 Fitzhugh asked her son if he was too much fatigued 
 to go to the relief of Julia. He was eager to act 
 upon the suggestion, and since his mother was willing, 
 and he thoucrht there was no danger of a renewal of 
 
ROEBUCK. 203 
 
 the attack at Willowbank during his absence, he 
 started off, and thougli his horse was jaded, he rode 
 raindly. He directed a servant to follow him to Mar- 
 lin's cabin with a horse for Julia. At the cabin he 
 heard what the reader knows of her departure, and 
 hastened to overtake her. 
 
 When Mike's attempt at robbery was defeated, he 
 ran to the grove in which he had left blind Pete, and 
 mounted a horse which one of the negroes had stolen 
 and brought there. He rode away, leaving his ac- 
 complices without any explanation of his purpose or 
 any instruction for their own conduct. Frightened 
 and furious, he thought only of perpetrating an act 
 of vengeance and then flying from the country. He 
 went to the house of Mr. Palmer, with no definite 
 plan, but with a general purpose of revenge. To his 
 surprise, he found a front window open and light 
 streaming through it. Peeping in, he saw Colonel 
 Fairfax, seated with Mr. Palmer, and he then sta- 
 tioned himself by a pillar, to wait for the colonel's 
 departm*e and for his own opportunity. He had been 
 there but a short time when the opportunity offered 
 itself, and he attempted to take the life of his master. 
 Failing in that attempt, he concluded that nothing 
 remained for him but speedy flight. But the Federal 
 lines were distant, and he distrusted his OAvn ability to 
 make his way to them. He had before thought of 
 inducing Campbell to act as a pilot for the fugitive 
 party — he now resolved to apply to him. Going to 
 the village, he sought the .ear of the Swan tavern, 
 and by a method which he had already used for a 
 Clandestine interview with Campbell, obtained admit- 
 tance into his chamber. Rousing him from sleep, he 
 told that ambitious plotter of insurrection that Cap- 
 
204 ROEBUCK. 
 
 tain Fitzhugh, with his whole company, had returned 
 to the county, that tliey had that night attacked a 
 large party of armed negroes and defeated them, and 
 werethen approaching the village to arrest Campbell. 
 That gentleman, dreadfully alarmed, anticipated Mike's 
 suggestion of flight, and thankfully accepted the ne- 
 gro's offer to sro with him. 
 
 " But I have no horse," said Campbell, in an agi- 
 tated tone. 
 
 '• Da's a good boss in de stable of dis tavern," said 
 Mike. 
 
 " But he is not mine." 
 
 " Den steal him." 
 
 This sharp solution of the difficulty was perforce 
 accepted, though Mike's unceremonious designation 
 of the process of appropriation was more consonant 
 with the negi'o's morality than ^^-ith the white man's 
 pride. Pride and honor, with human and divine 
 laws, yield to military necessity. In the grey of the 
 morning, Campbell and his sable comrade, mounted 
 on stolen horses, caught a last glimpse of the distant 
 village. 
 
 When Colonel Fairfax, after foiling Mike's last 
 attempt upon Mr. Palmer's life, returned to Roe- 
 buck, he was astonished at meeting with his wi^e in 
 the avenue. She was walkmg there, in deep distress. 
 His first thought was that his absence from home had 
 excited such fears for his safety that she had started 
 out in seai'ch of him. Then he thought — but before 
 he could shape out another conjecture, ^li's. Fairfax 
 had cried — " Julia — ha^'e you seen our own dear 
 Julia? We have lost her." Wringing her hands, 
 she gave way to grief and apprehension. Her hus- 
 band, alarmed by her cries and tears, could not imme- 
 
ROEBUCK. 205 
 
 diately obtain from her an intelligible explanation. 
 At length he learned that Julia had not returned 
 home, and that during the night search had been 
 made for her in every direction and by every person 
 on the plantation, without finding her or discovering 
 any clue to the mystery of her disappearance. The 
 last that could be heard of her was that, after visiting 
 the sick neighbor, she had started to go home alone 
 about dark. The servants were still seai-ching the 
 fields, the woods and the roads. Doctor Dick, though 
 riding was yet painful to him, was scouring the coun- 
 try in pursuit of his favorite niece. Several wounded 
 Confederate soldiers who were entertained at Roe- 
 buck, as in a hospital, had left their beds and, on 
 crutches, were looking about in impossible places for 
 the missing matron of their infirmary. Everybody 
 loved Julia. 
 
 When her father had reflected a moment on what 
 was told him, he inquired whether any one had gone 
 to Marlin's cabin. lie was told that some of the ser- 
 vants had been sent on the road which led in that di- 
 rection, but it was not known that any one had 
 thought of going the whole distance to Marlin's. 
 "Without any distinct reason for supposing that she 
 might be heard of there, her father could not discover 
 that anything had been left undone which was less 
 unpromising than inquiry at that place. Impatient 
 to do something that might enable liim to trace his 
 daughter, and agitated by fears which even her mother 
 did not entertain because she knew less than he did of 
 the disturbances in the neighborhood, he set out to- 
 wards Marlin's. His wife, whom he soothed with 
 hopes which he could not feel, consented to return 
 to the house and await the result of his inquiries. 
 
206 ROEBUCK. 
 
 He had not rode more than a mile when he 
 met his daughter with Major Fitzhiigh. Kecog- 
 nizing her at some distance he exclaimed — "my 
 child! thank God! my child!" He leaped from his 
 horse and ran to embrace her. lie saw by the moon- 
 light that she Aras extremely pale. AYhen she leaned 
 down to kiss him, and he felt the tremor of her hand, 
 tears welled up in his eyes. The emotions which suc- 
 ceeded his extreme anxiety for her safety could find 
 no other utterance. 
 
 '" Where have you been all this night, my daugh- 
 ter?" he asked as soon as he could command his 
 voice. 
 
 " I will tell you all, papa, Avhen we get home. I 
 am fatigued but unhurt." 
 
 " You seem to be very feeble, daughter. Can you 
 ride home V 
 
 "Yes, papa, but I must ride slowly. Poor 
 mamma! I fear she is in distress. Captain Fitz- 
 hugh, will you have the kindness to ride on and 
 relieve her mind ? Papa will take care of me. You 
 neglect to speak to your fi-iend. Captain Fitzhugh, 
 papa ! lie has placed us under the greatest obliga- 
 tion to him for my safety to-night." 
 
 "Pardon me, Hugh. You are welcome to the 
 county. I wdll find Avords to thank you when we 
 arriA^e at the house." 
 
 After a hasty return of the colonel's greeting, Fitz- 
 hugh rode on, Avhile the father and daughter followed 
 slowly. When Julia arrived at home, she was car- 
 ried to her chamber and laid upon her bed, com- 
 pletely exhausted. She could not leave her room for 
 several days. 
 
 In spite of hospitable entreaties, Fitzhngh left Roe- 
 
ROEBUCK. 207 
 
 buck as soon as slie amvecl. lie was not willing to 
 be longer absent from his mother. He, too, needed 
 repose. His wound, which at first was not very trou- 
 blesome, had, in the heat and unAvholesome camp of 
 Manassa, threatened serious consequences. The sur- 
 geons insisted that he shoulcl go home, and when he 
 found that the army was to remain inactive, he 
 yielded to their advice. Wishing to give his horses 
 the benefit of a furlough, he traveled on horseback. 
 He found himself within a few miles of home when 
 night overtook him — the night of the events just 
 related — and he pushed on. When he alighted be- 
 fore the mansion of Willowbank, he saw a light 
 moving in the house, and, approaching the door, he 
 found it open. What followed is known. For a 
 week after this night he could not move from the 
 house, and it was a month before he could return to 
 the army. 
 
 The history of Major Fitzhugh and Julia Fairfax 
 during that month would be the most delightful of 
 narratives, if a story of true love, when its course 
 runs smooth, could impart to a reader the happiness 
 of the lovers. But the sweetest passage in the life 
 of every man and every woman who has loved truly 
 and happily is sweetest only to two beings. Such 
 love, which is the wine of life in the experience, turns 
 to lees in the description. The reader Avho has ever 
 read by " the purple light " knows that when, on that 
 memorable night, Hugh Fitzhugh knelt beside Julia, 
 with his aim about her waist, and called her " dear 
 Julia," the a lection whicli had been budding on the 
 friendship of their youth bloomed into the perfect 
 llower of love. By what more explicit words the 
 compact of lovers was afterwards sealed they might 
 
208 ROEBUCK. 
 
 not remember; but they were plighted. The ap- 
 proval of their fomilies and the favor of circum- 
 stances left no impediment in the way of their wishes. 
 During the last three weeks that Major Fitzhugh 
 remained at home he was a daily visitor at Roebuck. 
 Colonel Fairfax had regarded his talents and liis 
 generous, frank and honorable temper Avith almost 
 paternal interest, even when he feared that the bright 
 promise of his youth might be blighted by the mildew 
 of indolence or the canker of pleasure. But now, 
 -v^hen the strength and dignity of his character were 
 developed by the vocation of a patriotic soldier, and 
 he displayed also the grace which a true man derives 
 from wise love, the colonel proudly recognized in him 
 the qualities which he would most desire in his 
 daughter's husband. Mrs. Fairfax, with a mother's 
 gentle pride and a woman's natural delight in a happy 
 match, built castles in the ah- for her daughter, and 
 made her own substantial home more smiling and 
 radiant than those fabrics of her fancy. Julia, lovely, 
 loving and beloved, was more beautiful than ever, and 
 happier than the happiest dreams of her childhood. 
 Her voice, like the melody of birds, often warbled her 
 happiness in song. Hugh Fitzhugh fondly believed 
 that until then music so melodious had never been 
 heard. Perhaps it was most pleasant to his ear when 
 it would have been least agreeable to a less passionate 
 listener, for of all her songs his favorite was, 
 
 THE SOUTHERN CAVALIER. 
 
 The lance of chivahy is broke, its iron mail is rust, 
 
 Bat knightly truth and courage live when knights have 
 
 turned to dust : 
 There never rode a truer knight in battle or career 
 Than this grey-coated gentleman, the Southern Cavalier. 
 
ROEBtrcE. 209 
 
 For nobler cause no champion tlid ever wield his brand 
 Than ours — the cause of liberty and of our native land ; 
 Nor ever did more loyal kniglit uplift his knightly spear 
 Than this grey-coated gentleman, the Southern Cavalier. 
 
 The brave who for their country die like setting stars go 
 
 down, 
 To rise again from eve to eve, immortal in renown : 
 Kone braver stands a mark for death, without reproach or 
 
 fear, 
 Than this grey-coated gentleman, the Southern Cavalier. 
 
 The gallant soldier after war remains his country's guest, 
 With praise of men and woman's love and peace within his 
 
 breast, 
 And Pleaven, that loves a righteous cause, hath smiles his 
 
 life to cheer 
 For this grey-coated gentleman, the Southern Cavalier. 
 
210 ROEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 TREMAINE. 
 
 In the spring of the year eighteen hundred and 
 sixty-two, both Fitzhugh and Tremaine had been pro- 
 moted to the rank of colonel in the cavalry of their 
 respective services. In the previous autumn Captain 
 Fitzhugh, with his company, was sent to the Valley, 
 and serv^ed under Jackson in guarding the junction, in 
 the winter expedition to Bath and Romney, and in the 
 brilliant spring campaign, beginning with Kernstown 
 and ending with Port Republic, which first made the 
 name of Jackson renowned. 
 
 Probably no other campaign made by so small a 
 force in so short a time ever produced more impor- 
 tant effects than the rapid succession of remarkable 
 victories then won by Jackson over several armies. 
 The immediate influence of this brilliant and unex- 
 pected success upon the minds of the Southern people 
 was as extraordinary as it was timely. Never at any 
 other time dimng the war until the final catastrophe 
 was at hand, was the South so despondent as in the 
 spring of eighteen hundred and sixty-two. About 
 that time the overweening confidence inspu'ed by the 
 Confederate successes of the previous year was turned 
 to dismay by several disasters. Most of the volun- 
 teers who composed the array of the South had 
 enlisted for a year only and their term of service wag 
 about to expire. It was apprehended that not many 
 would renew their engagement, and that a new army 
 
ROEBUCK. 211 
 
 couUl not be formed before the disbanding of the old, 
 if at all. It was deemed necessary to pass the law of 
 conscription, which compelled all white male residents 
 between the ages of eighteen and thu'ty-five (with a 
 few exemptions) to serve in the army three years or to 
 furnish substitutes. It required those who had vol- 
 unteered for a year to remain in service two years 
 longer. Many feared that this severe measure would 
 provoke resistance, but it was obeyed witli almost 
 uncomplaining patriotism. The law, however, was a 
 violent and impracticable measure, and was afterwards 
 among the prominent causes of the downfall of the 
 Confederacy. The general alarm which led to its 
 enactment was suddenly relieved by the achievements 
 of " Stonewall " Jackson in the Valley, if it is proper 
 thus to ascribe to him alone victories which were due 
 to the marvellous endurance and unconquerable valor 
 of the little army which he led, not less than to the 
 genius of their leader. It will be readily understood 
 that the activity of that army, the extent of country 
 which it protected, the number of its battles, with the 
 skirmishes and other incidents of such a campaign, 
 afforded to every man opportunities for the display 
 of the best qualities of a soldier. The large amount 
 of intelligence then in the ranks, the general spirit of 
 patriotism and the individual independence nourished 
 in Southern society fitted almost every man to play an 
 effective part. 
 
 Tliis volume cannot be adorned with a history of 
 that noble army. We cannot even take space to re- 
 cord the particular exploits of our friends. It must 
 suffice to mention brielly that Hugh Fitzhugh became 
 a lieutenant-colonel during the winter, that when the 
 whole army was reorganized in the spring, under the 
 
S12 ROEBUCK. 
 
 law of conscription, be was elected colonel, and tha. 
 he was acknowledged to have fairly won his promo- 
 tions by his gallant and skilful conduct. At the new 
 election Mark Marlin was chosen a lieutenant, with 
 the unanimous approbation of the young gentlemen 
 and other members of* his company. With his com- 
 mission he acquired the social rank of a gentleman, 
 according to the theory of his youthful ambition, and 
 his deportment was faithful to his model. 
 
 About the same, time such changes took place in 
 the military lines that Roebuck became accessible to 
 the Federal troops. The county remained for a time 
 debatable ground, and was visited occasionally by 
 cavahy fi-om both sides. At length, however, a 
 Federal detachment was stationed in the village, 
 under the command of Colonel Tremaine. It was suf- 
 ficient, with the support of a larger force at no great 
 distance, to hold the county, but not to prevent occa- 
 sional and rapid incursions of Confederate horse. 
 The Federal cavalry in Virginia was still inferior, and 
 poverty had not yet unhorsed the Confederates. At 
 the time of the events about to be narrated. Colonel 
 Fitzhugh, with his regiment, Avas stationed some 
 twenty miles from the village, and a considerable dis- 
 tance in advance of any large Southern army. The 
 force under Colonel Tremaine was composed of his 
 own regiment of cavalry, and a regiment of infantry. 
 The latter was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Wesel, a German, who was in daily expectation of 
 being promoted to the office of colonel of his regi- 
 ment, then vacant. He had been a butcher in a 
 Northern city. He was a blatant politician of the 
 prevailing order, and had been active in drawing hia 
 countrymen into the regiment. He was, therefore, 
 
ROEBUCK. 213 
 
 patronized by some influential persons. He and his 
 men had been taught to look upon " rebels" as atro- 
 cious criminals, out of the pale of humanity, and upon 
 their property as lawful prey. Some companies of 
 the cavalry, though composed of native Americans, 
 had similar notions, and their officers were not unwil- 
 ling to fill their pockets, or furnish their houses, or 
 decorate their wives by the pillage of their Southern 
 brethren. Among the officers attached to this force 
 was Albert Palmer. 
 
 We left that" gentleman, just after the battle of 
 Manassa, and on the morning of his duel with Baxter, 
 deliberating upon the expediency of transferring him- 
 self to the North. Having resolved that question in 
 favor of his native land, lie proceeded on foot towards 
 Washington, taking care to avoid the parties of Con- 
 federates who were then to be expected on his route. 
 The next morning ab^ut dawn he approached a Fede- 
 ral picket on the Southern side of the Potomac. He 
 approached cautiously, and, as it Avas thought, suspi- 
 ciously, dressed in Confederate uniform, and the picket 
 took alarm and retired. The panic of Manassa had 
 not yet subsided. A report soon spread as far as the 
 city of Washington that a large rebel army was at the 
 southern bank of the river and produced great com- 
 motion for several hours. In the meantime Palmer, 
 by skilful manoeuvres, contrived to get within hail of 
 a Federal party, and made known his friendly pur- 
 pose. A deserter from the rebel army, at such a mo- 
 ment, was received with distinguished consideration. 
 Of course, he professed to have been a staunch friend 
 of the Union from the beginning, and told marvellous 
 stories of the persecutions which he had sutTercd un- 
 til, afl*ecting to favor the rebel cause, he had accepted 
 
214 ROEBUCK. 
 
 employment in the Southern army, with a view to 
 desert at the earliest safe opportunity. Thus he won 
 favor, and his efforts to ingratiate himself Avith those 
 who had the disposal of offices were seconded by 
 Campbell after his flight to the North. Thus he re- 
 turned to the county of his residence an officer in the 
 array which he had gone forth to oppose. lie came 
 back Avith some particulai* resentments to gratify, and 
 to some remains of the original prejudices of a stran- 
 ger by birth he might add the vindictive zeal of a 
 renegade in regard to the people of Virginia- 
 Soon after Colonel Tremaine established his head- 
 quarters at the Swan travern, he was visited by Col- 
 onel Fairfax. The meeting between them, though not 
 wholly free from constraint, was friendly on both 
 sides. Colonel Tremaine took occasion to repeat the 
 expression of his gratitude for hospitality and kind- 
 ness which, he said, had probably saved his life. Col- 
 onel Fairfax, premising that his former guest would 
 not expect him to express pleasure at the establish- 
 ment of a Federal force in the county, added that, 
 since that misfortune could not be averted, he was sin- 
 cerely gratified to find Colonel Tremaine in com- 
 mand. He proceeded to state the special object of his 
 visit. 
 
 " I desire to know (if you think proper to inform 
 me) what course you intend to pursue with reference 
 to our unarmed citizens who remain at home. You 
 harve heard me express my political opinions. Tiie 
 fortunes of war do not change our convictions of 
 right. My sentiments are the same as those which 
 goncrally prevail in the county. But we acknowl- 
 edge the duties which spring from adverse events, and 
 intend to perform them as, I doubt not, youi- duties 
 will be i^erformed with equal fidelity." 
 
ROEBUCK. 215 
 
 " Since you allude to my duties," replied Colonel 
 Tremaine, smiling, "I would be pleased to know 
 what duties you think 1 owe to your citizens in the 
 ju-esent situation of affairs here V* 
 
 " Pardon me, colonel, I am not here to lecture you. 
 I intended only to express courteously my confidence 
 in you." 
 
 '•But, really, I desire to know your opinion. I 
 have confidence in your fairness and your judgment. 
 It may be necessary for me to understand the senti- 
 ments of the people in order to determine how they 
 should be treated. I believe that whatever you tell 
 me will be true, and whatever you promise will be 
 performed. I wish you to speak fi-eely in behalf of 
 your people." 
 
 " We know, Colonel, that your first duty is to pro- 
 mote the success of your government in the war. To 
 that end we expect you to do whatever a just and 
 humane man may do. We expect, while you remain 
 in possession, to submit in good faith to a power 
 which we cannot resist and desire not to irritate : I 
 take it for granted, that you will refrain from harass- 
 ing citizens who refrain from hostile conduct. I 
 should think, if you permit me to say so, that it will 
 be your duty to protect them, as far as you can, in 
 their homes, property and innocent avocations. 
 Your force supersedes all other authority in the 
 county, and it would seem that, where submission is 
 a duty, protection is a right." 
 
 " I believe we shall not quarrel, Colonel Fairfax, if 
 your citizens act in the spirit which you attribute to 
 them. I cannot make explicit stipulations with you. 
 I must reserve the free exercise of discretionary 
 authority. For the present tell your people to trust 
 
216 ROEBUCK. 
 
 me and I will trust them. I shall issue such regula- 
 tions as I deem necessaiy to be observed on their 
 part. Some of them will be strict and may appear 
 unreasonable. I cannot publish the reasons for them. 
 But, if you make allowance for the harsh necessities 
 of war, I believe you will consider me both just and 
 humane. I shall expect obedience to my regulations 
 at all events. If any of my men insult or pillage or 
 oppress the citizens, let those who are wronged apply 
 to me for redress." 
 
 After some further conversation, in which an invita- 
 tion was given and accepted to visit Roebuck, Colonel 
 Fairfax retired. The next day Mr. Palmer called on 
 Colonel Tremaine. Notwithstanding his son had so 
 openly appeared in the Federal service, that cautious 
 gentleman still hesitated to offend his neighbors by a 
 precipitate display of Union sentiments. He did not 
 call on the commander of the Federal force in the vil- 
 lage until he heard that so conspicuous a rebel as 
 Colonel Fah-fax had visited him. Even in conversing 
 with Colonel Tremaine he rather insinuated at first 
 than avowed his adhesion to the cause represented 
 by that officer. But by degrees he led the conversa- 
 tion to political topics and to the affairs of the county, 
 and broached some opinions for the guidance of the 
 colonel. He represented the citizens of the county as, 
 almost without exception, uncompromising rebels. 
 He complained, especially, that the wealthy gentlemen 
 devoted their riches to the support of the rebellion. 
 Glancing at Colonel Fairfax, he said that one of the 
 most prominent of that class had, during the past 
 year, devoted the whole of his large revenue and valu- 
 able croj^s to the support of the Confederate cause or 
 to the families of soldiers, and had induced the county 
 
ROEBUCK. 217 
 
 court to make such liberal contributions that those 
 families lived in greater abundance than they had 
 known before the war. He thought that such power- 
 ful stimulants of rebellion ought to be suppressed by 
 depriving the wealthy rebels of their property. He 
 suggested that their estates might be administered 
 under military rule for the benefit of the government- 
 As Colonel Tremaine listened in silence to the long 
 and winding discourse in -which he cautiously devel- 
 oped these ideas, he even ventured to intimate that he 
 was willing to administer those estates. At length 
 he paused, and the colonel observed : 
 
 " I suppose the gentlemen to whom you allude have 
 been generously supporting a cause which they hon- 
 estly approve." 
 
 " I do not perceive, however, that their honesty 
 makes their conduct defensible." 
 
 " Would you expect honest men to support a cause 
 which they believe to be wrong V 
 
 Mr. Palmer winced at the question, for he suspected 
 that it was a hint at some meagre contributions which 
 he had made to the Confederate cause. But, after a 
 moment's hesitation, he replied : 
 
 "We have to deal with effects rather than 
 motives." 
 
 " It is a fact, however, worthy of observation, that 
 nearly all the honest men of the South appear to be 
 against us in this struggle. In proportion as they 
 scorn sordid interests, in comparison with high princi- 
 ple, appears to be their zeal for the Southern cause. 
 They evince, too, in supporting rebellion, generous 
 sentiments — sentiments Avhich we would certainly 
 applaud if we could approve their cause." 
 
 "Do you, then, justify the rebels'?" 
 
218 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " Far from it. For many reasons the public "wel- 
 fare, in my judgment, requires the rebellion to be sup- 
 pressed. For that purpose I liave used my sword and 
 risked my life. But our government is not now deal- 
 ing with a rabble of rioters or a mob of desperate and 
 wicked insurgents. Already for a whole year it ha>s 
 been carrying on a vast war against great communi- 
 ties, constituting powerful States and embracing most 
 of the worth and wisdom of the South. These 
 communities have acted in the exercise of a right 
 which they have been educated to believe is inherent 
 in their States. They act through their ancient State 
 governments and through a new government formally 
 organized. They cany on regular war with large 
 ai-mies. If we treat this as a case of simj^le rebellion 
 we shall fall into a ihtal follacy. It is war-r-civil war. 
 All history proves that in such wars it is equally 
 unwise and unjust for one party to treat the other as 
 criminals. Civil wars usually divide a nation and 
 S|iring from political questions about which honest 
 citizens honestly differ. They are so doubtful that a 
 large portion of the nation is found on the one side 
 and on the other. Frailty, passion or eiTor of one 
 party or of both, brings them to blows. Each believes 
 its conduct to be patriotic. Without criminal purpose 
 how can there be crime ? It is a case of war which 
 courts cannot adjudicate and for which laws cannot pro 
 vide. There is no arbiter between the parties to a war 
 but the sword. The sword is senseless and decides no 
 question of right. It determines only the preponder- 
 ance of force. It is absurd then for either party to 
 accuse the otljer of crime." 
 
 " At all events, colonel, you must admit the pro- 
 priety of taking from the rebels the means of support- 
 ing the rebellion." 
 
ROEBUCK. 219 
 
 " Let mc answer you in the language attributed by 
 tke most renowned author in our language to his favor- 
 ite hero. We give express charge that, in our marches 
 through the country, there be nothing compelled from 
 the villages, nothing taken but paid for, none of the 
 French upbraided or abused in disdainful language ; 
 for when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom the 
 gentler gamester is the soonest winner." 
 
 " According to your ideas, nobody should be pun- 
 ished for this rebellion after it is suppressed." 
 
 " War should end in peace, not punishment. Pun- 
 ishment then is the revenge of victors upon the van- 
 quished, of the powerful upon the defenceless. As we 
 shorten war by making submission safe we shall con- 
 firm peace by making it honorable. A civil war, 
 being between brethren, should, if possible, end like 
 the quarrel of Brutus and Cassius on the stage, in a 
 rivalry of loving penitance. But, since we cannot 
 expect such a romantic revulsion of the passions of 
 war, we may at least remember that, if submission is 
 the duty of the conquered, magnanimity is the virtue of 
 conquerors. The offence is the oiBfence of a commu- 
 nity ; war and defeat are the punishments of a commu- 
 nity. Among millions of people engaged in resistance, 
 human judgment cannot discriminate and assign to 
 each his peculiar share of blame. We must deal with 
 the community." 
 
 " It is easy to discriminate between the leaders and 
 the rest." 
 
 " If that were true, why should we take vengeance 
 on the best, the chosen men of a people, and let those 
 who have chosen them go free V 
 
 "I cannot imagine, colonel, how you propose to 
 assert the supremacy of the government and dispose 
 of the rebels." 
 
220 noEBUClC. 
 
 " Suppress arnied resistaiice by the most \ngoroiig 
 measures — establish again the laws of peaceful society 
 — and trust the defeated party as a party of honest, 
 but mistaken citizens. I am confident that when its 
 military power is broken, the South w^ill submit, and 
 once submitting, will frankly fulfil the duties of its 
 new position. I believe that the South will always be 
 true to its ancient instincts of frankness and manly 
 honor." 
 
 " I am glad that, at least, you speak of the submis- 
 sion of the South." 
 
 " Yes ; submission to lawful authority, not to dis- 
 honor. That I could never requh*e. I wish to see 
 the people of the South remain my countrymen, and 
 I desire no dishonored men for my countrymen." 
 
 " What guaranties can you have that rebellion will 
 not be renewed, unless you inflict punishment and 
 strip these people of power ?" 
 
 " Unless the might of armies, the awe of defeat, the 
 experience of war, and a restoration of fraternal feel- 
 ing shall bind the people to the government, the blood 
 of their martyrs will not cement the Union, nor will 
 the desperation of poverty and disgrace make men 
 quiet citizens. \Ye may compel them to submit by 
 force ; if we would have them loyal at heart, we must 
 win their hearts." 
 
 "Ah, colonel, you do not know their bitterness. 
 But you must have heard Doctor Dick Faufax at 
 Roebuck." 
 
 " Yes ; when I heard his invectives against the 
 North — though they seemed to be spoken half in a 
 spirit of waspish jest — I listened always with pain and 
 sometimes with indignation. I suppose his virulence 
 is an exaggerated specimen of the antipathy engen- 
 
ROEBUCK. 221 
 
 clcred m the minds of the Southern people by our un- 
 happy controversies. When I heard him I thought 
 of those Northern fanatics and demagogues, who, by 
 the injustice of their conduct and language respecting 
 the South, had excited such enmity in a heart which 
 I found otherwise amiable and generous. If we, as 
 the stronger section, provoke resentments and then 
 punish them, we are doubly unjust. But, Mr. Palmer, 
 we have wandered into a discussion of questions 
 which we have not to decide. It would have been 
 enough to say that I do not intend to deprive the 
 citizens of their property unless it may be taken from 
 necessity, and in accordance with the rules and usages 
 of civilized warfare." 
 
 '• I must confess, sir, that you appear to be luke- 
 warm in the great cause." 
 
 " When you have shed your blood for the Union 
 you may reproach me. Good morning, su*." 
 
 " You are very attentive to the rights of rebels." 
 
 " All men have the rights of humanity. Do you 
 require me to teach you that I have the rights of a 
 gentleman 1 Once more, I bid you good morning, 
 sir." 
 
 Mr. Palmer did not wait for another repetition of 
 the hint, but retired. 
 
 Under the mild and firm administration of Colonel 
 Tremaine, the county was quiet. Disorders were re- 
 pressed. The citizens soon felt almost the same se- 
 curity as in time of peace. Those who had fled re- 
 turned. The people instead of invoking the Confede- 
 rates to attack the Federal force at the village for 
 their relief, deprecated the approach of Confederate 
 troops. They wanted repose. Some of them, weary 
 of war, began to repent their separation from a gov- 
 
22^ ROEBUCK. 
 
 crnment which showed itself benignant in the con- 
 duct of its officer. Perhaps, if a similar policy had 
 been pursued everywhere during the war, the predic- 
 tion of Doctor Fairfax that the South would not 
 maintain the struggle more than two years, might 
 have been fulfilled. 
 
 But the conduct of Colonel Tremaine was censured 
 by Lieutenant-Colonel Wesel, and some others of the 
 command. They chafed under the restraints of discip- 
 line. Their passions demanded licence. Mr. Palmer 
 also, and his son, were disappointed and offended. 
 An intrigue was hatched for the removal of Colonel 
 Tremaine from the command. He was accused of 
 inertness, of cruelty to his men, of indulgence to 
 rebels. It was insinuated that he felt a criminal giw 
 titude for the kindness which he had received as a 
 wounded prisoner. It was observed that he dined 
 with a noted rebel, and listened on Sunday to a ser- 
 mon delivered by an old preacher, who was known to 
 sympathize with his fellow-citizens in their trials. It 
 was alleged that he would neither force nor entice 
 servants away from their masters. In fine, it was 
 concluded that he sympathized with the rebellion. 
 At length this intrigue was successful. Colonel Tre- 
 maine was ordered to Washington to answer for his 
 conduct, and Wesel, promoted to the rank of colonel, 
 was left in command, with ample authority to scourge 
 the spirit of secession from the county. Then com- 
 menced a new administration of a different order. 
 
ROEBUCK. 223 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 GABRIEI^ 
 
 The savage and futile policy of reducing the South 
 to submission by destroying provisions and imple- 
 ments of husbandry, and by converting the land into 
 a barren waste, had not yet been formally avowed by 
 high authority. It was executed in particular places 
 with more or less ferocity, according to the temper of 
 each commander. Those who were prone to that 
 mode of warfare derived sufficient encouragement 
 from the orders excluding medicines from the South, 
 and other acts of the government, denying to the 
 Soutliern people those rights of humanity which are 
 conceded to enemies by the usages of civilized war- 
 fare. Such atrocities received no countenance from 
 Colonel Tremaine, but they suited the temperament 
 of his successor. 
 
 During the first two years of the war, discipline in 
 the vast armies of the North was less perfect than it 
 afterwards became. Small bodies, detached from the 
 main armies, soon became very disordei-ly and lawless, 
 unless controlled by a firm and judicious officer. In 
 a short time, the force under Colonel Wesel became 
 little better than a licentious rabble. At first the 
 baser sort of men, sweepings of streets, brawlers and 
 bruisers at home, became drunken, thievish and 
 riotous. Their impunity, and the contagion of vice, 
 corrupted otl/ers. Many men, not thoroughly vicious, 
 require the cm'b of military discipline when they are 
 
224 ROEBUCK. 
 
 exempt from tlic gentle but constant restraints of civil 
 society. Towards the citizens the -demeanor of tlio 
 colonel was so brutal that his worst men were en- 
 couraged to indulge tlieii* worst passions. Thus, un- 
 der his orders, or through the licentious effects of his 
 administi'ation, the county was given up to pillage 
 and oppression. All horses were captured as legitimate 
 
 / prizes. Cows, sheep and swine, were killed in A>^n-, 
 tonness. Mills and barns were burned. Fences were 
 destroyed. Dwellings were entered and ransacked 
 by night or day ; private papers found in them, were 
 torn and scattered ; clothing of women and children 
 was rent to ribbons, or caiTied off; jewelry wa^ 
 rudely \\Tenched from the persons of ladies, and fami- 
 lies were put in terror of death or a fate worse than 
 death. Farming implements, food and forage were 
 
 I systematically destroyed or removed. Men were in- 
 sulted, and upon the slightest show of resentment 
 shot down. The slaves were persuaded, and, in some 
 cases, compelled to leave their homes. Tiie men 
 were drawn to the camp as servants, or suffered to 
 roam about and live by pillage. The women, easily 
 corrupted, were kept by the soldiei*s in sties about the 
 village, or wandered they l^ew not whither. Many 
 of the servants deserted Roebuck, charmed with the 
 idea of freedom. ^ Negroes, parasites by nature, cling 
 to the strongest power that stands near them./ How 
 ever absurd the notions which they associate with lib- 
 erty, exemption, from compulsory labor has a special 
 charm for the indolent and thoughtless creatures. 
 Credulous and servile, they were easily deluded and 
 led away by men ^vho belonged to the race they were^ 
 accustomed to revere, and who came with professions 
 of exclusive fi'iendship for them. They could not re- 
 
ROEBUCK. . 225 
 
 jcct a boon offered by a subtle tempter, promising that 
 it should make them to be as gods, notwithstanding 
 the decree of nature forbidding this fruit of freedom 
 to their race on pain of death. 
 
 Mr. Palmer, it may be remembered, had reserved 
 from sale a negro ' man, named Gabe, who was ex- 
 pected to be kept at home by a stupid contentment 
 with his lot or a stolid incapacity to compass another. 
 Wlien some of his Northern patrons, rambling from 
 the village, plied him with temj^tation, his woolly 
 head was profoundly perplexed. The novel thought 
 of running away from Ins master, after it once ob- 
 tained a lodgment in his brain, stuck fast, but he did 
 not know what to do with it. He went moping and 
 stumbling about in woful contemplation, until at 
 length he arrived at a conclusion which he expressed 
 to himself in the formula — " I's a thinkin' I better be 
 a gwine." Greatly relieved by the resolution of his 
 doubts, he kept muttering his formula, as if he feared 
 that unless he kept the words in his mouth the idea 
 would fly out of his head. For several days he sat, 
 or walked, or worked, with constant repetition of the 
 sentence — " I's a thinkin' I better be a gwine." Some 
 knowledge of his frame of mind reached his master 
 and mistress, and they began to fear they would lose 
 their only man-servant through the officious kindness 
 of their Northern friends. 
 
 One evening this subject, among others, engaged 
 the attention of a family council held in the parlor — 
 present, jNIi*. Palmer, Mi-s. Palmer and their son, 
 Albert. It was agreed that, under existing- circum- 
 stances, Gabe could not be detained by force, and 
 that it would be dangerous to attempt to spirit him 
 away to a slave-market. It seemed almost certain 
 
 10* 
 
22G .ROEBUCK. 
 
 that lie would prove a total loss. This prospect ma le 
 them for the moment regard the proceedings ot a 
 benign government as rather oppressive. At last a 
 desperate expedient occurred to Mr. Palmer the elder. 
 He' rang the bell and summoned Gabe to the parlor. 
 
 " Gabe," said he, with solemnity, " I am afraid you 
 are thinking about running away to the Yankees." 
 
 "Ts a thinkin' I better be a gwine, master," re- 
 sponded Gabe, in his welUconned formula, without 
 insolence of manner, but with stolid apathy. 
 
 " Gabriel," resumed his master, with impressive 
 condescension, "you ought not to go. You are a 
 poor, ignorant nigger, and you do not know what is 
 for your good. I have enly your own welfare at 
 heart. You have now a good home. If you run 
 away you will have none. These Yankees ai-e fooling 
 you. They care nothing about you. They merely 
 want to injure the South by taking away its labor. I 
 take care of your family. You and they fare better 
 than poor white folks at the North. You are going 
 to leave friends and protectors for strangers. Nobody 
 will feel any interest in your welfare. Everybody 
 will strive to take bread out of your mouth to feed 
 themselves. You cannot compete with white labor- 
 ers among white employers. In fact, you know you 
 won't work without a master. You will let your 
 children perish. You will be a beggar, an outcast, a 
 vagabond. Take my word for it, if you trust these 
 Yankees you will rue it as long as you live. Now 
 will you i-un away, Gabriel "?" 
 
 " I's a thinkin' I better be a gwine," answered Gabe, 
 as before. 
 
 " Gabriel, you will commit a grievous sin. You 
 would not go against the Bible, would you? I will 
 
ROEBUCK. 227 
 
 expound your duty to you out of the Holy Scriptures.'* 
 Taking up the Book and drawing his spectacles 
 down upon his nose, Mr. Palmer proceeded to read 
 and expound some selected passages, while Gabe 
 stood before him, twisting a button and perusing the 
 carpet. 
 
 " Ileal' now," he continued, " what is commanded 
 in the twenty-fifth chapter of Leviticus — ' Botli tliy 
 bondmen and thy bondmaids ' — that means our slaves, 
 Gabriel — 'which thou shalt have, shall be of the 
 heathen that are i*ound about you ; of them shall ye 
 buy bondmen and bondmaids. Moreover of the chil- 
 di*en of the strangers that do sojourn among you, of 
 them shall ye buy and of their families tl^at are with 
 you which they begat in your land : and they shall be 
 your possession. And ye shall take them as an in- 
 heritance for your children after you, to inherit them 
 for a possessioH ; they shall be your bondmen forever.' 
 Now, Gabriel, your forefathers were heathen, you 
 know, and so the white people were commanded to 
 buy them for slaves, and to hold them and their chil- 
 dren as a i^ossession forever. My forefathers in New 
 England bought many of them, and made great gains 
 by them, which proved that their trade was blessed. 
 When slavery became unprofitable in New England, 
 whereby k appeai*ed that the institution was no 
 longer blessed there, they sold their slaves to the 
 Southern people, with advantage to all parties. So 
 my ancestors again had golden experience that godli- 
 ness is great gain, and they have continued to be a 
 godly and a gainful people to this very day. The 
 I)assage I have read requires the slaves to be an in- 
 heritance for the children of the masters. 1 did not 
 receive you by inheritance, but New England men 
 
228 ROEBUCK. 
 
 cfin, by the Divine blessing, obtain the inheritance of 
 the children of Yirgmia as Jacob got the birthright 
 of Esau by substituting kid for venison. Thus it is 
 proved out- of Scriptui-e, Gabe, that you must^ stay 
 with me. What confirms this interpretation is that 
 the institution of slavery in the South has been 
 blessed Avith wonderful usefulness to mankind. While 
 the slaves multiply and thrive, they have added more 
 to the wealth, comfort and civilization of the world, 
 by tillage, than any other equal number of laborers 
 ever did in the same length of time. You know they 
 never would have done all this work if they had been 
 free, and you know that white men could not have 
 done it. So it is the will of God, Gabriel, that you 
 shall not run away to the Yankees. Do you under- 
 stand ?" 
 
 " I's a thinkin' I better be a gwine.'* 
 
 " Xow, my good and faithful sei*vant, let me read 
 to you what Saint Paul says — ' Exhort servants to be 
 obedient unto their own masters and to please them 
 well in all things ; not answering again ; not purloin- 
 ing but showing all good fidelity ' — that means you 
 must stay with me, Gabriel — and again, ' Let as many 
 as are under the yoke count their oavu masters worthy 
 of all honor. * * * And they that have believing 
 masters' — like iiie, Gabriel — 'let them not despise 
 them because they are brethren but rather do them 
 service ' — mark that, Gabriel, do them service. Now 
 will you fly in the face of Scriptm'e V* 
 
 " I's a thinkin' I better be a gwine." 
 
 " Poor Gabriel, I fear yom* understanding is dark 
 and youi* heart hardened. Perhaps we may obtain 
 light to dkect your steps, or to stop them, by prayer. 
 Let us pray." 
 
ROEBUCK. 229 
 
 lie knelt down, as did also liis wife ami son. Gabe, 
 who had been taught, not to pray, but to stand, in 
 the presence of his betters, and who did not under- 
 stand that he had been ordered to kneel, remained in 
 his erect posture. He twisted his button and perused 
 the carpet, shifting his weight from one foot to the 
 other, while his lips moved, not in prayer, but in 
 repetition of his fugitive formula. His master prayed 
 very earnestly, in a manner which he thought must 
 impress the mind and melt the heart of his servant. 
 Then he paused, and casting his eyes on Gabe, dis- 
 covered that he was still standing. 
 
 " How is your mind now, Gabriel f he inquired. 
 
 " I's a thinkin' I better be a gwine." 
 
 " Kneel down, Gabriel." 
 
 Gabe obeyed. He crossed his arms over the bot- 
 tom of a chair and laid his forehead upon them. The 
 prayer was resumed with increasing fervor. It be- 
 came so eloquent, unctuous and importunate that 
 Mrs. Palmer was moved to sigh, and then to groan, 
 and finally to respond audibly Amen and Amen. 
 Again pausing, Mr. Palmer turned to his bondman, 
 bought with his money, and said — " how do you feel 
 now, Gabriel V 
 
 " I's a thinkin' I better be a gwine," muttered Gabe. 
 
 "Good God!" exclaimed his master, bouncing to 
 his feet, " have we a government that will not protect 
 our property '?" 
 
 Mrs. Palmer and Albert also rose, but Gabe re- 
 mained kneeling, with his face upon his arms, and 
 his arms upon the chair. His mistress, gazing at him 
 a moment with rising scorn, >hen strode with rectan- 
 gular solemnity to his side, and stretching out her 
 arm over his head, thus addressed him : 
 
 " Ut tUf Brute — ungrateful nigger — nigroque simil- 
 
230 ROEBUCK. 
 
 lima cycno— after all Ave have done for you — we might 
 have sold you with the rest — we might now have the 
 money in our pockets — you will run away, will you — 
 what 'black ingratitude — who would believe it — rredat 
 Jt'dans Apella — I'll never trust a nigger again^ — go 
 then — run, starve, beg, steal, die, rot — go this night 
 — don't sleep again under this roof — and mind, don't 
 steal anything when you go — t^ke off that suit and 
 put on your old clothes — obey me or I'll have you 
 v/hi)-)ped — I hope you'll rue this hour in want and woe 
 to the end of your days — begone, you black rascal, 
 begone." 
 
 But Gabe did not rise. He was fast asleep. As 
 soon as his head rested on a chair slumber began to 
 creep over him. "When his master addressed him he 
 was partially aroused, and muttered his well-conned 
 response between asleep and awake. Under the 
 monotonous declamation of Mrs. Palmer he lost all 
 consciousness. After the close of her address his only 
 reply was a sonorous sriore. Albert, discovering the 
 truth of the case, and being himself cool enough to 
 feel the ridicule of the situation, quietly approached 
 Gabe, and laying a hand on his shoulder, woke him. 
 Gabe leaped up and looked about him with amazement. 
 
 "Begone!" said his old master. 
 
 " I's a thinkin' I better be a gwine." 
 
 Gabe hustled out of the parlor with less servile cer- 
 emony than he had been accustomed to display in 
 retiring from the presence. 
 
 . The family council, resuming its session, discussed 
 various topics, and among them the Fairfaxes of Roe- 
 buck came under consideration. The course and con- 
 clusion of the consultation respecting that family need 
 not now be stated. So far as results followed from it, 
 
ROEBUCK. 231 
 
 of interest to the reader, they will appear in the 
 sequel. While the name of Fairfax was yet upon 
 their lips the signal of blind Pete was heard, and he 
 was admitted. He came to report that Colonel Fitz- 
 hngh was spending the night at Roebuck. Albert 
 Palmer, eager to avail himself of the information, 
 mounted his horse, and after giving an order to Pete, 
 rode to the village. 
 
 Pete's clandestine information was so far correct 
 that Hugh Fitzhugh visited Roebuck that night, but 
 left there before Albert Palmer could have arrived at 
 the village. Going Avith his regiment upon an expe- 
 dition, he passed near Roebuck in the night. While 
 the regiment halted for a brief rest he rode off with a 
 small escort to visit Colonel Fairfax, and ascertain 
 from him whether the rumors were true which 
 he had heard of the outi-ages committed upon the 
 people of the county. After conversing with the 
 colonel upon that subject, he indulged himself with a 
 brief delay, to talk with Julia upon a subject of more 
 tender interest to them than to the public. Then, 
 while he lingered yet a little longer, conversation 
 turned upon the desolation of Virginia a»d the suffer- 
 ing of her people. A large portion of the State was 
 ah-eady ravaged and devastated. The flower of her 
 youth and manhood had been cut down by thousands. 
 From the first to the last hour of the war the blood of 
 the State flowed in torrents, and in all her borders it 
 seemed that nothing could stand erect under the in- 
 cessant storm of war but her unconquerable spirit. 
 Those who then fondly protracted a hurried conversa- 
 tion, to deplore the afflictions of their beloved Com- 
 monwealth, could not foresee that they would never 
 meet again under the roof of Roebuck. They knew 
 
232 ROEBUCK. 
 
 not the ruin that was yet hidden in the darkness of 
 that very night. Happy ignorance of the future! 
 They had fortitude to bear the ills which they had 
 known, but who could endure a knowledge of the 
 time to come? Fitzhugh took leave of Colonel Fair^ 
 ftix and Mrs. Fairfax with words of cheerful anticipa- 
 tiouj and in accents that became sad, in spite of his 
 efforts to cheer their hearts, he was about to bid fare- 
 well to Julia. He paused and said, "My dearest 
 Julia, I must carry with me the memory of your sweet 
 voice in song. Sing one song for me before I leave 
 you." At such a moment her voice could not be 
 quite free from the tremulous effect of her emotion, but 
 she, too, was exerting herself to lighten the sadness 
 of hearts she loved, and not j^ermitting her tones to 
 betray her heart too plainly, she sung a song — 
 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 Virginia bleeds and weeps for woo 
 
 But feels no touch of shame ; 
 Beneath eclipse her glories glow 
 
 With undiminished flame. 
 A virgin queen with laurel crown, 
 
 A sovereign of the free, 
 She vows to trample tyrants down 
 
 And bleeds for liberty. 
 
 ISTot always thus shall droop her head, 
 
 She will rejoice again : 
 Ko blood so pure for freedom shed 
 
 Was ever shed in vain. 
 An altar every battle-field 
 
 On which her sous have died — 
 Its smoke, like incense, has appealed 
 
 Where right is ne'er denied. 
 
ROEBUCK. 233 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 BUSHWHACKING AT ROEBUCK. 
 
 Among the Federal officers at the villao^e was Cap- 
 tain Dakin, who led a company of marauding cavalry. 
 He was active, daring, cruel and treacherous. He 
 was a favorite instrument of Colonel Wesel in ex- 
 ecuting all plans of bold adventure or nithless re- 
 venge. By virtue of a round, red ince, a jolly laugli, 
 and a fondness for the bottle, he was called a good 
 fellow. The licence which he allowed to his men 
 made him popular among them. He had been a 
 preacher. After wearing out religion as a theme of 
 popular eloquence, lie took to preaching politics from 
 the pulpit. The political agitation of the day was the 
 controversy between the North and South, and that, 
 curiously enough, turned mainly upon Soutliern 
 slavery, which excited no dissension where it existed, 
 but offended the North, where it was unknoAvn. The 
 pretext for introducing it into the sacred desk, and 
 beating tlie " drum ecclesiastic" for recruits in the 
 political warfare of the North against the South, was 
 tliat slavery was a sin. From the exclusive attention 
 given to it, the reverend gentleman's hearers might 
 have concluded that it was the only sin extant, and, 
 consequently, that those who were free from it were 
 saints. It was so atrocious a crime, that the preacher 
 in denouncing slave-holders, danced in the pulpit with 
 sacred fmy. The sentiments which foamed from hia 
 
2.04 ROEBUCK. 
 
 lips were unearthly. A mortcal who has not been in 
 Heaven, dares not affirm with confidence that they 
 were Heavenly. But it may be presumed that there 
 is a Avorld above or below us in which they might 
 take their origin. As all his hearers were free from 
 the guilt which he denounced, his denunciations may 
 appear to have been superfluous ; but they had tlie 
 happy effect of cultivating in the hearts of his congre- * 
 gation a comfortable sense of their own perfection in 
 comparison with those distant sinners, together with 
 a holy hatred of those reprobates. Besides, they 
 swelled a certain volume of votes. Ambitious to ex- 
 tend the sphere of his usefulness, or preferring the 
 applause of a multitude to the still decorum of a 
 church, this clergj-nian turned street-preaeher. From 
 porticos of public buildings, or from board-piles in 
 vacant lots, he harangued the mob on Sunday after- 
 noons as they were harangued by the other dema- 
 gogues from similar platforms on week days. At 
 last, weary of teaching others to disdain the com- 
 mandment against coveting a neiglibor's servants, he 
 abandoned the pulpit, and regaled himself with a 
 breach of the commandment as^ainst covetins: a neit'h- 
 bor s wife. A member of his congregation had a 
 very pretty wife. Her beauty was to blame in the 
 affiiir. Besides, a sweet sin that nestles in our own 
 bosoms looks less ugly than another man's sin afar off. 
 One may be embraced, while the other is anathema. 
 When the war broke out, however, he left the arms 
 of his charmer, to take up arms for his country. 
 
 Albert Palmer, arriving at the village, hastened to 
 communicate to Colonel Wesel the information which 
 he had received from blind Pete. The colonel em- 
 braced with alacrity an oppoitunity to capture the 
 
ROEBUCK. 235 
 
 Confederate officer. Fitzhugh's cavalry had bcea en- 
 terprising and troublesome. They had cut ofF several 
 parties of Wesel's men, besides harassing him with 
 alarms in his camp. Aided and stimulated by the 
 people, who were exasperated by oppression, they had 
 made it necessary of late for the Federals to restrict 
 the range of their operations within narrow limits. 
 The capture of the Confederate colonel, therefore, was 
 veiy desh-able. It would gratify, also, for Albert 
 Palmer a private pique, and, perhaps, open the way 
 for the renewal of a matrimonial project, which, for 
 certain reasons, he desired to revive. Love had failed, 
 but arms might prevail. The possession of the heiress 
 of Roebuck would be convenient in any event of 
 the war, and he still distrusted the success of the 
 Federals. 
 
 Captain Dakin was aroused from slumber, and in- 
 trusted with the duty of capturing Colonel Fitzhugh, 
 and he was directed also to arrest Colonel Fairfax, 
 and carry him before the tribunal of the Federal com- 
 mander, upon a charge of harboring the rebel officer. 
 He was to take Avith him but a small party, because 
 success might depend on secresy as well as prompti- 
 tude of action. The ready captain soon had liis men 
 in the saddle. In moving about, he stumbled over 
 Juba, who was asleep on the porch of the Swan 
 tavern. As it was no longer necessary for him to 
 take to the bush for the enjoyment' of leisure, he 
 lounged about the village, day and night, waiting for 
 his slice of land. It occurred to the captain that this 
 fellow might be useful as a guide about the grounds 
 of Roebuck, and waking him with a kick, he ordered 
 him to mount a horse, and accompany the party. 
 Albert Palmer also went along. When they were 
 
236 ROEBUCK. 
 
 witliiii a mile of the mansion of Roebuck, Captain 
 Dakin informed Juba of his destination and design, 
 requiring the invohmtary guide to lead a squad to tire 
 rear of the house, and to point out every path, gate 
 and outlet by which Fitzhugh might escape. To 
 quicken his intelligence, he was told that, if the rebel 
 ollicer was not captured, he should be hung. 
 
 Arriving near the mansion. Captain Dakin quietly 
 posted his men so as to shut up every loop-hole of 
 retreat, and then rode up to the front of the hmise. 
 Awaking the inmates by beating on a door, he called 
 for Colonel Fairfax. That gentleman soon appeared 
 at an upper window, and inquired who was there. 
 
 " Captain Dakin desires to see Colonel Fitzhugh.'* 
 
 " He is not here." 
 
 " I know better. I have direct information. You 
 can't deceive me." 
 
 " There is no attempt to deceive you, I assure you 
 he is not in the house.". 
 
 " You want to parley while he escapes. I under- 
 stand your game. It won't do. Your house is sur- 
 rounded with my troops." 
 
 " Captain Dakin, upon my honor he is not here." 
 
 " You lie, you old rebel. Send Fitzhugh to 
 
 me, or I will set fire to your house in five minutes. 
 It ought to have been burnt long ago." 
 
 " It is impossible for me to send a man who is not 
 near me." 
 
 '' Then the house shall burn." 
 
 " Surely, you are not in earnestT* 
 
 " You will see." 
 
 Captain Dakin called two of his men, and ordered 
 them to bring fire from a negro cabin, and apply it to 
 the house iu fl'ont and rear. Colonel Fairfax remon- 
 
n O E B VCK. 237 
 
 strated, nnrl invited him to search the hou^e. The 
 captain replied that he was not to be taken in by that 
 ti-ick. He was then requested, to give the ladies time 
 to put on tlieir clothes, and leave the house before it 
 was fired. lie answ'rred, with an oath, that they and 
 Colonel Fairflix should remain in the house, and be 
 burnt with it, unless he delivered up Colonel Fitz- 
 hugh. "Give him up," he added, "or his sweet- 
 heart shall answer for it." This brutal threat was 
 heard by Julia, who stood at a window of her cham- 
 ber listening to the dialogue. Mrs. Fairfax stood 
 near her husband. He requested her to go to Julia's 
 room, and directed that they should both prepare to 
 fly from the house. He then went for a gun which 
 he kept concealed, because the inhabitants were gene- 
 rally disarmed by the Federals. Returning to the 
 window, he saw the two soldiers approaching with 
 fire. He called out to Captain Dakin, and. said — " if 
 you attempt to burn the house with my family in it, 
 I will certainly shoot the man who applies the torch," 
 The captain ordered the men to fire the house. One 
 of them, coming to the front, applied the fire, and 
 stooped down to kindle it. Colonel Fairfax dis- 
 charged a load of buck-shot from one barrel of the 
 gun, and one or two shots entered the soldier's leg. 
 He ran away, making a gi*eat outcry of pain. The 
 colonel passed over to a back window, and saw the 
 other soldier putting fire to the house. He discharged 
 the other barrel, and the man then ran, alarmed, but 
 not hurt. ^ Colonel Fairfax re-loaded his gun, and re- 
 sumed his place at the front. In the meantime, a 
 negro man, who slept in the house, was awakened by 
 the report of fire-arms, and ran to the assistance of his 
 master. He came to the window just as some of the 
 
238 ROEBUCK. 
 
 soldiers fired a volley at it, and he was slightly 
 wounded. His master, having no weapon for him, 
 pent him to the assistance of the ladies, with a request 
 that tliey would go down stairs, where he would pre- 
 sently join them, and endeavor to escape. The man 
 found them dressed ; but ]Mi's. Fairfax, overcome with 
 alarm, had sunk upon the floor, and Julia knelt beside 
 her, urging her to fly. When the servant came, she 
 left her mother with him, and going to her father, in- 
 sisted that he should convey Mrs. Fau'fax from the 
 house, while she would remain at the window, and 
 engage the attention of the soldiers. He directed her 
 to return, and, with the assistance of the servant, 
 cany her mother down stairs, saying that he would 
 detain the soldiers at the front, until the ladies were 
 ready to pass out from a back door, which he desig- 
 nated, and then he would follow. In obedience to his 
 directions, they descended to the door. Wliile this 
 was taking place within, Captain Dakin found means 
 to fire the house, and very soon the flames began to 
 ascend on every side. The colonel, without further 
 delay, followed the ladies, and found them waiting for 
 him at the door. 
 
 Taking his wife, almost inanimate, in his arms, he 
 went out, followed by Julia and the seiwant. They 
 walked rapidly away from the house, and for a short 
 distance were concealed by shrubbery. But they 
 were soon discovered and were pursued with cries of 
 
 "here they go — shoot them — kill the secesh." 
 
 Several pistols were fired at them. A ball took efiect 
 in the colonel's thigh and he fell to the ground. His 
 -vvife became quite insensible. Julia stood a moment 
 bewildered. She saw some of the soldiers seize her 
 father and others her mother, dragging them away. 
 
n O E B U C K . y 2^59 
 
 She felt the grasp of two men who drew her along, and 
 before she could recover from tlie stupefaction of ter- 
 ror, they placed, her on a horse before the rider. He 
 held her firmly and dashed off at a rapid pace, which 
 L>oon recalled her faculties. She straggled to free her- 
 Bclf, but the horseman, tightening his grasp about her 
 waist, said — " be not alarmed, Miss Fah*fax ; you are 
 rafe ; I will carry you away from those ruffians." She 
 recognized the voice of Albert Palmer. 
 
 " My father," she cried, " my mother — I must not 
 leave them. O, Captain Palmer, i-^lease me." 
 
 "That would be madness. Miss Fau-fax. You 
 would run into danger and could do no good. I will 
 take you to a place of safety and then look after 
 them." 
 
 " I must go back. Release me, sir." 
 " Ko, my sweet bird, that is impossible." 
 He stiTick his spurs into his horse, and in spite of 
 her entreaties, remonstrances and struggles, he bore 
 her away through the darkness. 
 
 While the fire was raging. Captain Dakin was mov- 
 ing about in great excitement, cursing and giving 
 orders to secure the rebels and keep ^rict watch for 
 Fitzhugh. He was expected eveiy moment to issue 
 from the burning building. When the house was so 
 far consumed that Captain Dakin was sure the rebel 
 officer could not be in it, he called for the negro who 
 had acted as guide, swearing that he had played false. 
 Poor Juba was found and brought before him. 
 "Hang him," was the peremptory order. In vain 
 the negi'o protested his innocence and implored mercy. 
 His cries, his groans, his tears were disregarded. 
 While the flames yet raged, he swung from a tree 
 before the house — a corpse. Sparks fell on the cabin 
 
240 ROEBUCK. 
 
 of old Uncle Valentine, and it \vas soon in a blaze. 
 He i;ras carried from it by some of the negroes, dread- 
 fully burned, and in a few minutes he died. It is 
 believed that Joe perished in the burning mansion. 
 He ran towards it when he saw it in flames, and hear- 
 ing that his master was inside, he rushed in to rescue 
 him. He was seen running to and fro in the upper 
 part of the house -svhen the fire was licking the high- 
 est windows. He \vas never seen afterwards. 
 
 Mrs. Faiifax, after being dragged a short distance 
 by the soldiers, was left by them lying upon the 
 ground, her age and sex, perhaps, obtaining for her 
 the compassion of neglect. Some of her servants car- 
 ried her to a negi'O cabin, where the faithful creatm-es 
 ministered to her with assiduous care until morning, 
 when she was conveyed to the house of a friend in the 
 neighborhood. Colonel Fairfax, after being drawn 
 along the eartli in great agony from the spot where 
 he was wounded to a place more remote from the 
 flames, was guarded as if he had been able to fight or 
 fly. He lay in pain and in view )f his bm-ning home ; 
 but more intolerable than his wjund was his anxiety 
 for the safety of his wife and daughter. He was kept 
 in ignorance of their fate, and when the rising sun 
 shone upon the smoking ruins of his mansion, he was 
 thrown into a cart and eanied to the village. He was 
 there placed in a house which was used as a hospital. 
 The surgeon in charge treated •him vith professional 
 skill and with extreme kindness. He left nothing 
 undone that was within his power for the relief and 
 comfort of the wounded and bereaved gentleman. 
 During the day a considerable number of Federal 
 officers called upon him to express their sympathy 
 and respect. Of these, some had enjoyed his hospi- 
 
ROEBUCK. 241 
 
 tality, and esteemed him from personal .acquaintance. 
 To others he was a stranger, but they knew his char- 
 acter and acted in the spirit ot generous courtesy 
 which becomes the profession of arms. 
 
 When Colonel Wesel heard his subordinate's re- 
 port of the proceedings or operations of the night, he 
 commended the captain's conduct, and was enraged at 
 tlie audacious attack made by Colonel Fairfax on the 
 Federal troops. He looked upon it as the cap-sheaf 
 of crime in the county. He denounced Colonel Fair- 
 fax not only as a " secesh," a rebel and an aristocrat, 
 but as a "bushwhacker" — an epithet commonly 
 applied to those persons, who, not being in the mili- 
 tary service, waylaid enemies and shot them from 
 bushes, trees, rocks, houses or other places of conceal- 
 ment. Tlie insolent offences of the secesh citizens, he 
 declared, had been increasing of late. Woman had 
 worn Confederate colors in their garments and had 
 declined the acquaintance of Federals. Men had re- 
 fused to remain at home and till the ground. Negroes 
 had been chastised. Rebel soldiers had been harbored 
 by their families and others. Loyal citizens had been 
 insulted. The venerable clergyman of the village had 
 refused to pray for the President of th"e United States 
 These, and other enormities, were recited in an order 
 issued by Colonel Wesel, and it was added that law- 
 less barbarity had at last culminated in an attempt 
 made by a bad old man to assassinate a Federal officer 
 and several men, at midnight, by clandestinely shooting 
 at them from the concealment of darkness and of a 
 private dwelling. The 'colonel announced his deter- 
 mination to suppress all these diabolical practices, and 
 especially that of bushwhacking. He threatened 
 that other dwellings should be destroyed, and that, if 
 
242 KOEBUCK. 
 
 such offences were repeated, the county should be 
 •made a barren waste. 
 
 He proceeded to make an example of the church 
 and the pastor. He appropriated the ancient edifice 
 to the uses of a stable for the cavalry. He caused 
 the Reverend Mr. Ambler to be aiTcsted and brought 
 before him. After interi'ogating and bullying the 
 old gentleman, and lecturing him on theology, he 
 condemned the meek and venerable minister to work 
 upon the street of the village daily, dui'ing the plea- 
 sure of the colonel. The sentence was instantly car- 
 ried into execution, and, beside a negro, the village 
 pastor, guarded like a felon, bowed his white head 
 over a spade. He bore his cross with Christian 
 resignation, but he called to mind the words of the 
 Preacher — " If thou seest the oppression of the poor 
 and violent perverting of judgment and justice in a 
 province, marvel not at the matter: for He that is 
 higher than the highest regardeth; and there bo 
 higher than they." 
 
ROEBUCK. 243 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 VENGEANCE. 
 
 In the afternoon of the same day, Captain Dakin 
 was sent out upon an errand of devastation. At 
 Roebuck he burned barns, fences, stacks and every- 
 thing else that wUs valuable and combustible, except 
 a few cabins inhabited by negroes— a faithful remnant 
 of the blithe black population that once enjoyed the 
 wealth of that estate. He then led his troopers to 
 Willowbank, and proceeded to execute vengeance 
 upon Hugh Fitzhugh and his mother, by destroying 
 their ancient mansion. He sent one of the servants 
 to notify his mistress that he was about to burn the 
 house, and that she would be allowed ten minutes to 
 remove her indispensable clothing. She was confined 
 to bed by sickness. She sent her faithful servant. 
 Belle, to inform the Federal officer of her condition, 
 and to request him not to disturb her at that time. 
 He replied that he was up to the tricks of the " she- 
 rebels ;" that her illness was feigned, to save her 
 house, but that it should not avail. He ordered 
 Belle to tell the old woman up stairs that the house 
 would be fired in precisely ten minutes by the watch. 
 
 When the lady was informed of this savage threat, 
 and was convinced by Belle's representations that the 
 captain intended to execute it, her eyes flashed and 
 her bosom swelled with indignant defiance. The 
 energy of her spirit overcame the languor of disease. 
 " Go," said she to Belle, " tell the brutal wretch that 
 
244 nOEBUCK. 
 
 I will remain here. Let him burn the liouse find me 
 too." Belle descended again and informed the cap- 
 tain that her mistress could not be removed without 
 risk of her life, and would not consent to leave the 
 house. She imjilored him not to burn the house with 
 her mistress in it. He repeated his former threat, 
 with many oaths. "When the servant returned to tlio 
 chamber she found that Mrs. Fitzhugh had composed 
 herself in bed with rigid resolution, and was evi- 
 dently preparing her mind for the death which she 
 expected. She said to her servant — " Stay here until 
 they fire the house ; then save yourself. I hope this 
 sacrifice will arouse the indignation of men and the 
 justice of Heaven to aiTest tlie atrocious system of 
 warfai'e that is desolating my country. Tell my dear 
 Hugh that I die blessing him. God save Vh'ginia. 
 Now farewell, my good girl. I must prepare for 
 death." 
 
 Belle uttered loud lamentations, and, on her knees, 
 entreated her mistress to leave the house. She even 
 attempted to carry her away forcibly, but the authority 
 and resistance of the energetic old lady prevented her. 
 When the fire began to rise she ran to and fi*o wildly, 
 and then, after a final efiort to remove Mrs. Fitzhugh 
 with affectionate violence, she fled from the flames. 
 When Captain Dakin saw her run out, leaving her 
 mistress in the burning building, he began to think 
 that the old lady really could not be removed by her 
 servant, and that she would be consumed by the fire. 
 Shocked at that probable event, he ordered some of 
 his men to enter the house and carry her out. They 
 rushed into her chamber, caught her up, without re- 
 garding her remonstrances, and bore her into the 
 yai'd only a moment before it would have been too 
 
ROEBUCK. 245 
 
 late to descend the stairs. They laid her on the 
 grass, and there she witnessed the final destruction of 
 her house. When the flames had sunk into smoulder- 
 ing ashes she inquired for the officer in command. 
 Captain Dakin presented himself to her. 
 
 "Captain," she said, looking at him sternly, ''you 
 have destroyed my home, thrusting me from it when 
 I am too feeble to rise ; but my misfortunes are as 
 nothing in the general calamity. I bear them pa- 
 tiently, as tsacriuces for my country. It is not of them 
 I wish to speak to you. But 1 have heard of the 
 outrages you have perpetrated upon others — upon rich 
 and poor — upon men, women and children. Now, 
 while you look on the last embers you have made, 
 your latest victim, a feeble old woman, warns you to 
 desist from your ferocious warfare on the innocent 
 and defenceless. As sure as there is a God who 
 pities the widow and the fatherless, you and your 
 people will rue these crimes. Divine justice will not 
 always sleep " 
 
 "Divine justice!" interrupted the reverend cap- 
 tain, with an oath and a satu-ical laugh, "that's 
 played out long since at the North. No more of that 
 sort of talk, old woman." 
 
 " Have you dethroned God f 
 
 " Take this Avoman away," he said to some of her 
 servants who had assembled around her. They car- 
 ried her away tenderly. Some of them had lately 
 been corrupted by evil association, but the sight of 
 their old mistress in distress moved their passionate 
 hearts to eagn* demonstrations of affection. She 
 thanked them, and when she was refreshed with rest 
 she called some of her women around her and thus 
 addressed t.hpra . 
 
246 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " I tliank you, ray poor girls, for your service. I 
 am grateful to all my sen-ants. I do not reproach 
 those who have left me. I pity you all. You do not 
 foresee the evils that are coming upon your race. I 
 can no longer protect you. Om* house, that gave you 
 and me shelter, is destroyed. Our family is broken 
 up. We shall be no more together. But I shall 
 never forget the love and fidelity of my servants dur- 
 ing so many years. God grant that you may never 
 regret our separation. I cannot give you counsel 
 hereafter, and let me tell you, once for all, that if you 
 would be happy you must be humble, industrious and 
 good. Bless you, my girls ; may you be happy !" 
 
 After Captain Dakin had fulfilled his mission of 
 destruction at Willowbank, he led his troopers away 
 to other work of a similar kind. Passing near the 
 cabin of Marlin, the preaching cooper, he remembered 
 a report that Eliza Marhn had committed the ofience 
 of carrying medicines to the rebels. Pie could not 
 recollect the particulars of the accusation, but it arose 
 out of the circumstance that, when her father had an 
 attack of fever, she visited him in camp, and carried 
 some drugs for the use of him and others. Halting 
 before the cabin, he called Eliza and charged her with 
 the offence. She admitted it, stating all the circum- 
 stances. He declared that she should be punished on 
 the spot. By his command some of the men seized 
 her, and tying her thumbs with cords, drew them up 
 until her arms were stretched above her head and 
 she stood upon her toes, and then they attached the 
 cords to a joist. Others tied her mother to a chain, 
 so that she could not release her daughter. Thus the 
 two women were left. Eliza had struggled while 
 they were binding her, until she fuim4 vowstiince use- 
 
ROEBUCK. 247 
 
 less, and ilien, disdcoining to bog for mercy, she sub- 
 mitted ill silence. ^ When her face reddened and her 
 eyes flashed with indignation, she seemed beautiful to 
 the rude and pitiless troopers. Her defenceless situ- 
 ation and the degradation to which she had been sub- 
 jected by their captain encouraged them to entertain 
 a licentious and outrageous design against her. On 
 the march, when it had become dark, four or five of 
 them separated themselves from the command and 
 returned to the cabin. Releasing Eliza, they began- 
 to insult . her with the rough familiarity of affected 
 fondness, and then ensued a scene of violence which 
 cannot be described. 
 
 When the men were departing they released Mrs. 
 Marlin, and with mock compassion bade her take good 
 cara of her pretty daughter. That wretched girl was 
 left nearly dead, and praying for death as a refuge 
 from shame. Her mother's brain reeled, and she was 
 almost incapable of rendering any assistance to the 
 form that writhed upon the floor. "O, mother, 
 ^lother," was the despairing cry of the girl in her 
 deadly anguish. "O, God, O, God !" was the cry of 
 the mother. Throwing herself beside her daughter, 
 a'nd embracing her with frenzied passion, she sobbed 
 and wept until the motionless stillness of the girl 
 startled her with a new fear. " O God, my daughter 
 is dead!" she exclaimed. The dim light of a poor 
 candle could scarcely reveal her low breathing, her 
 eyes were half-closed, and she appeared to her dis- 
 tracted mother the imasje of death. Still clinijinGr to 
 hope, Mrs. Marlin hastened to apply the simple restor- 
 atives at hand, and gradually recalled so much anima- 
 tion that her daughter could fiintly converse. In that 
 condition she lingered some hours of the night. 
 
248 ROEBUCK. 
 
 Having laid lier on a bed, her motlier sat beside her. 
 With her strong will she drove back the madness 
 which she felt to be creeping over her brain, in order 
 that she might ward off death, which, she feared, was 
 stealing into the heart of her daughter. Alone, 
 throngh the dark and dreary watches of a terrible 
 night, she sustained that awful conflict. The dying 
 girl sometimes, in delirium, uttered words that cleft 
 the soul of the lonely watcher at her bedside. Some- 
 times, in rational moments, she whispered such despair, 
 such pity for her mother, such affection for her absent 
 father and brother, that the miserable mother wavered 
 between madness and death. At length Eliza started 
 np, and staring with all the dreadful feelings of tliat 
 night concentrated in her eyes, she cried, " it is over," 
 and fell back upon her pillow. Then a more placid 
 expression settled upon her face, and she died. 
 
 The mother at first refused to believe that all was 
 over. She fancied that a light breath still came from 
 those lifeless lips. She laid her hand over the pulse- 
 less heart and stood fondly waiting to feel the motion 
 of life. While thus slie stood a change came over her 
 own features. Still feeling in vain for the pulsation 
 of her daughter's heart, her pallid features became 
 rigid and then relaxed to an unmeaning simper. " I 
 cant find it — I can't find it " — she repeated, moving 
 herhandsabout over the body of her child. Presently 
 she walked to the door — then out upon the road, and 
 she stood there a few minutes in silence. Suddenly 
 she burst into a loud laugh, and cried — " I know 
 where it is. Abraham's got it. Ill go for Abraham." 
 She walked rapidly away through the darkness. By 
 chance, or from some recollection that her husband had 
 passed that way the night before, she Ibllowed his 
 
ROEBUCK. 249 
 
 regiment. She kept on its track during the remain- 
 der of the night, in the morning and throughout the 
 day. On she went, without food or drink or rest. 
 Now and then she stopped and looked bewildered, as 
 if she had forgotten her eut*and. Then she would 
 start, saying, "I'll go for Abraham — he's got it." 
 Tims onward she strode, drawn by the insane lancy 
 that he? husband could restore that mysterious spring 
 of life which had ceased to vibrate in the bosom of her 
 daughter, though she had lost all rational recollection 
 of that which she had lost and for which she searched. 
 " Abraham's got it — I'll go for Abraham ;" this frag- 
 ment of thought survived the wreck of her intellect, 
 and was drifting her towards her husband. 
 
 At evening she came upon the regiment where it 
 had halted. Moving about among the men, she took 
 no notice of any one until she saw her husband. Run- 
 ning to him, she seized his hand and attempted to 
 lead him along, while she said, " Come, Abraham — I 
 knowed you had it. Bring it home. Eliza's waiting 
 for it. She is lying on the bed. She looks so pretty." 
 She laughed aloud, and then began to talk rapidly and 
 incoherently, making no allusion to her daughter or 
 to her husband's return home. Having fulfilled the 
 purpose which had kept her wandering mind partially 
 fixed during the day, she lost all control of her wild 
 imagination. In vain her distressed husband endeav- 
 ored to learn from her the object of her journey and 
 the rational explanation of the words with which she 
 had greeted him. When her son, hearing of her 
 arrival, went to meet her, she fell upon his neck, ex- 
 claiming, " my brave boy." Then her talk rambled 
 again into unintelligible mazes. Her husband and 
 son were afliicted bebond expression. They feared, 
 
 11* 
 
250 ROEBUCK. 
 
 too, that some dreadful event must have occuiTcd to 
 Bhatter her intellect, and both her first allusion to 
 Eliza, dnd the absence of the daughter from the 
 mother in her present condition, suggested the most 
 teiTible apprehensions for the beloved girl. 
 
 When Colonel Fitzhugh became acquainted with 
 these circumstances he expressed the deepest sorrow 
 for the afflictions of this poor family, and considered 
 what might be done for their relief. Among other 
 measures which he suggested oi* adopted, he relieved 
 both Abraham and Mark from military duty, advising 
 the husband to take charge of his wife, and the son to 
 go home immediately and look after the safety of his 
 sister. They followed his advice, and Mark was soon 
 riding rapidly towards the cabin in which Eliza had 
 been left by her mother. 
 
ROEBUCK. 251 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 BAXTER. 
 
 Some time after nightfall, while Captain Dakin was 
 absent from the village, upon his foray against AVil- 
 lowbank, and other defenceless dwellings of women 
 and children. Colonel Wesel was seated in a great 
 arm-chair, in a room of the Swan tavern. His rotund 
 figure swelled with importance, his lace was red, and 
 his eyes were moist with the dew distilled by drink. 
 Altogether, he looked mellow, though duly formi- 
 dable, as he said pompously — " bring in the prisoner." 
 The order was obeyed, and a young man, followed by 
 a guard, swaggered into the room, and, without wait- 
 ing for an invitation, took a seat. He looked first at 
 Colonel Wesel, and then at Albert Palmer, who was 
 sitting at the colonel's right hand, as a counsellor. 
 He gazed at them both with an insolent stare, and 
 then, leaning back in his chair, threw his feet upon a 
 table. He was clad in the uniform of a private of 
 Confederate cavalry. He was not known to the col- 
 onel, but Palmer at once recognized his old antagonist, 
 Baxter. That eccentric commissary resigned his 
 commission at the time of his duel with Palmer, and 
 returning home, he remained there in inglorious ease, 
 until the next spring, when the law of conscription 
 was enacted by the Confederate Congress. Being 
 til en obliged to enter the service, he became a private 
 in the company formerly commanded by Hugh Fitz- 
 hugh. When the regiment passed near Roebuck, 
 
252 ROEBUCK. 
 
 just before the burning of that mansion, Baxter took 
 the liberty of withdrawing from the ranks and visit- 
 ing the village. He intended to spend an hour there, 
 and return to the regiment. But he fell in with a 
 boon companion a:id good liquor. * Ilis habitual 
 weakness detained him several hours, and, at last, he 
 lay down to sleep himself sober. He slept until eve- 
 ning, and then, in attempting to pass out of the vil- 
 lage, he was captured.' When he found himself in 
 the presence of Wesel and Palmer, his first thought 
 was that the one was a fool, and the other a cowai'd. 
 He conceived the idea of escaping from durance by 
 some stratagem, and with that view, he determined to 
 protract the proceedings, which would keep him about 
 the tavern, and to try the effect of bullying his 
 judges. He gave free rein to his insolence, affecting 
 to be drunk, although he was as sober as a man ought 
 ever to be, according to his theory. 
 
 " So," said Colonel Wesel, sternly, " you be'st our 
 prisoner." 
 
 " I suspected as much," answered Baxter. 
 
 '' And moreover, besides, you be'st a spy." 
 
 " That's a lie." 
 
 " Mein Gott ! That is impudence." 
 
 " You ai-e a fool, and you speak broken Dutch." 
 
 " Yat you say 1 You impudent slavery institution. 
 Donner ! That institution is impudent. Yat you say ? 
 Eh-h-h?" 
 
 " Colonel, you are right in objecting to the insti- 
 tution, but you do not urge the riglit objection." 
 
 "Yat is das, you secesh puppy." 
 
 " The only valid objection to our peculiar institu- 
 tion is that the niggers sing at their work, and sing 
 slow tunes. They work to hymns, and dance to jigs. 
 It won't pay." 
 
ROEBUCK. 253 
 
 " Veil, I vlll hang you. You bees a spy. Now let 
 us go on wid the examination. I vill hang you, but 
 I vill examine you first. You shall not say, when 
 you are dead, that I does not the fair thing." 
 
 " I think we might pass over the examination, since 
 the sentence has been abeady pronounced. That would 
 save time." 
 
 " No ; I vill examine you, to hang you according 
 to law." 
 
 " Then I will lie down on this bench, and take a 
 nap, while you are engaged in the examination. When 
 you are ready to hang me, please wake me up. I 
 want to see it done." 
 
 " You dinks I von't hang you ; but I vill, 
 by ." 
 
 " No, you won't." 
 
 *' What for I won't hang you 1 Eh-h-h !" 
 
 " Don't put your face so near me, when you speak 
 to me. Your breath smells of onions and Sweitzer 
 cheese." 
 
 " I vill stop . your breath vid a rope, hundsfut, 
 Johnny Reb." 
 
 "Now, don't. I prefer to be shot. Can't you 
 spare me a bullet 1 A bullet is the decent dose for 
 a gentleman. There is Palmer — he can tell you so. 
 By the way, did he ever tell you about the exchange 
 of bullets between him and me when he was in the 
 rebel service?" 
 
 '• You slander mine fi-iend. He is not a rebel nor 
 never vas not." 
 
 " Not rebel enough to hurt him. He deserted the 
 first chance he got." 
 
 " Don't mind what a drunken fellow says," inter- 
 posed Palmer. 
 
254 ROEBUCK, 
 
 " But, colonel, I must tell you about our duel. It 
 is a capital story. This was the way of it." 
 
 "He will talk here all night, if you let him," again 
 interrupted Palmer, uneasuy, " you had better send 
 him to the guard-house." 
 
 " But, colonel, it is a good story. Send for a 
 bottle, and I will tell you all about it while we 
 drink." 
 
 " You saucy sesesh ! You shall not drink my 
 liquer, nor tell me no story. Let us go on vid the 
 examination." 
 
 ''Now, colonel, I know you are dry. So am I. 
 You won't refuse a poor devil a drink, when he ia 
 going to be hung." 
 
 " Das is tnie. Das is fair. Palmer, please get the 
 bottle." 
 
 " That, now, is handsome for a Dutchman," said 
 Baxter, taking up the bottle, which Palmer produced 
 fi-om a closet, " now, I will tell the story." 
 
 "You are an infamous liar," exclaimed Palmer, 
 livid with rage. 
 
 " You shall be a toddy," said Baxter, as he hurled 
 the bottle at Palmer's head ; " whiskey to milk-and- 
 water ;" but the bottle missed the head, and was 
 shattered against the wall; "a dead loss," added 
 Baxter. 
 
 TVesel stormed furiously, and threatened the pris- 
 oner with a thousand deaths, in German and English. 
 Baxter sat quiet, until the storm had somewhat sub- 
 sided, and he then said, " Colonel, as we have nothing 
 to drink, we had better resume the examination." 
 
 " Yell, I vill hang you." 
 
 " You dare not." 
 
 " Vot for I dares not V* * 
 
ROEBUCK. 255 
 
 *' Because Colonel Fitzhugli will hang you before 
 to-morrow-night, if you do." 
 
 " Fitzstue ! Where is he ? I vas looking for that 
 rebel. I burnt him up in that -old rebel roost." 
 
 " He is with his regiment, and near enough to you 
 to hang you to-morrow." 
 
 " Vas he in this village vid you ven you didn't get 
 out ? Tell me truth, or I vill hang you again, two, 
 three times." 
 
 " He may be in the village now." 
 
 " Ambuscade, eh ? That rebel cavalry is eveiy- 
 
 where. I can't sleep. I can't eat mine dinner, I can't 
 
 take mine little dram — you broke mine bottle, you 
 
 butternut — till some fellow comes running in to tell the 
 rebel cavalry is upon us. It is the black-horse and 
 the white-horse, it is Ashby's and Stuart's, and it is 
 Fitzstue's all the times. Where is he? Send out 
 some of them cowardly cavalry of mine. They runs 
 back ven they sees a bush. Send the prisoner to the 
 guard house." 
 
 " I won't go to the guard-house." 
 
 " You won't. Why won't you, then t Eh-h-h !" 
 
 "Because I am a gentleman. I'll give you my 
 parole." 
 
 " You are a rebel— that's vOt you bees." 
 
 " A rebel owing allegiance, I suppose, to Dutchmen 
 hired to conquer American States!" 
 
 " I bin colonel of a loyal regiment. I bin gentle- 
 man." 
 
 " A Dutch colonel of a Yankee regiment ! What 
 a conjunction I Krout and clam-chowder ! Hessian 
 and Yankee! Hush — listen — there is Fitzhugh's 
 cavalry now !" 
 
 A clatter of hoofs was heard on the street. Colonel 
 
256 ROEBUCK. 
 
 Wesel started up and van to the door, followed by all 
 the others who were in the room. lie called to arms. 
 He peered into the dark to ascertain the cause of the 
 alarm. Captain Dakin with his troops rode up. In 
 tiie confusion and darkness Baxter had slipped away. 
 By his intimate knowledge of all places about the vil- 
 lage he was able in a icw minutes to reacli a place of 
 concealment, where he remained until a late hour of 
 the night favored his escape. 
 
 After passing out of the village, and walking a mile 
 or two, he heard the rattling of a cart on the road. 
 Stopping behind a tree until it came up, he found it 
 was blind Pete's. That knave still continued his noc- 
 turnal rambles, and practised liis villainies now with- 
 out even the trouble of giving bail. Baxter hailed 
 him, and taking a seat in the cart beside him, told him 
 to drive on. As they rode along, he drew from Pete 
 a variety of information about the Federal force and 
 otber matters, sometimes by wheedling and some- 
 times*TDy brow-beating. It was not difliciilt to do, for 
 Pete parted readily with whatever knowledge he pos- 
 sessed. He would yield it up at any time to bribes 
 or threats, and often threw it away recklessly, from a 
 propensity to gossip. From him Baxter derived 
 some information respecting Colonel Fairfax and his 
 family, which, with additions not known to the blind 
 gossip, it is proper to convey to the reader. 
 
 When Pete, on the night before, left Mr. Palmer's, 
 he went with his cart towards Koebuck, by order of 
 Albert. That young gentleman could not have anti- 
 cipated the fire, but he appears to have conceived the 
 capture of Fitzhugh and the arrest of Colonel Fairflix, 
 and may have thought tJiat the execution of such a 
 plan of violence would offer an opportunity for using 
 
ROEBUCK. 257 
 
 Pete's cart in some such enterprise as he afterwards 
 effected. On his way thither the carter met Palmer, 
 carrying Miss Fairfax on his horse. With Pete's 
 assistance he forced her into the cart and took a seat 
 beside her. He then directed Pete to drive to Ids 
 father's. The young lady frequently implored Palmer 
 with pathetic entreaty to release her or to carry her 
 to her parents. Sometimes, as the cart moved on, she 
 tried to get upon her knees before him. She appealed 
 to his manhood, to his pity. Sometimes, after she 
 found him unrelenting, she gave way to helpless and 
 hopeless indignation, more pitiable than her tears. He 
 spoke but little. At first he affected to soothe her 
 with professions of regard and promises of safety. 
 Then, becoming impatient," he rebuked her sternly 
 and relapsed into silence. When they arrived at his 
 father's house she was taken to the front door, which 
 was opened by Mr. Palmer, in answer to Pete's signal, 
 and then the blind agent was dismissed. 
 
 The next morning the elder Palmer called on Col- 
 onel Wesel at the village. He and his son were con- 
 fidential advisers of that officer in all affairs of the 
 county. He was trusted as the head of the " loyal " 
 element in the county, as he had a right to be — being 
 the head of his own family. After congratulating 
 Colonel Wesel upon the vigor and success of his 
 administration* especially as shown in the last night's 
 operations, he proceeded to dilate upon the importance 
 of the capture which had been made in the person of 
 Colonel Fairfax. Besides denouncing the offences 
 specially charged against him, such as harboring a 
 rebel officer and bushwhacking, he represented that 
 the colonel was the main stay of the secession interest 
 in the county. He suggested that the removal of one 
 
258 ROEBUCK. 
 
 so influential from the State would tend to quell the 
 spirit of resistance, and ])roduce quiet and submission. 
 He suspected that if such a prisoner remained at the 
 village desperate efforts would be made to rescue him, 
 and Colonel Wesel might be attacked by an over- 
 powering force. He advised that the distinguislied 
 rebel should be sent to Washington, with a suitable 
 representation of his offences and of his importance, I 
 in order that he might be detained there as a prisoner 
 of State. Colonel Wesel, elated with his good for- 
 tune, and apprehensive of a rescue, embraced the advice 
 with alacrity. That very evening Colonel Fairfax 
 was started to Washington. He had to make the first 
 stage of the journey in an open wagon and over rough 
 roads. He suffered intolerable pain. But he was 
 hurried off without mercy, escorted by a strong guard. 
 He requested permission to see his wife and daughter 
 before starting, but it was refused. He was not in- 
 formed of his destination, and that was kept a secret 
 from others, lest a knowledge of the route to be pur- 
 sued should f:icilitate a rescue. He was not even 
 permitted to know what had become of his wife and 
 daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax remained at the house to which she 
 had been carried, as already mentioned, on the morn- 
 ing after the. fire at Roebuck. Mrs. Fitzhugh was 
 canied to the same place, after the de^'uction of her 
 house. To that high-spirited lady the exertion re- 
 quired by her misfortune proved an antidote to melan- 
 choly. As she had suffered only in the loss of property, 
 and not, like Mrs Fairfax, in the loss of those who 
 were dearest to her, she became more cheerful than 
 she had usually been during the war. She devoted 
 herself to the consolation of her more afflicted friend. 
 
ROEBUCK. 259 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax, of a gentle, tender, delicate nature, 
 accustomed to be cherished by her luisband and 
 daugliter, and hitherto sheltered by fortune from the 
 storms of life, pined under her calamities. The shocks 
 which she endured in that dreadful night, when her 
 house was burned, and her husband and daughter 
 were snatched from her to be earned, she knew not 
 whither, almost bereft her of existence. She had not 
 the stubborn qualities which might have enabled lier 
 to rally her strength and spirits. No consolation 
 could lift her from despondency. Sorrow withered her 
 strength and her health vanished. Her form wasted 
 away. She lay night and day, scarcely uttering a 
 word but the names of her husband and daughter. 
 Life waned in her until it became the shadow of 
 death. 
 
260 ROEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 ALBERT palmer's LOVE. 
 
 When Mr. Palmer, on the night of the fire at Roe- 
 buck, had opened his door, he was informed by his 
 son that Miss Fairfjix was there, desiring refuge and 
 repose, in consequence of the destruction of her 
 father's house. "No, no,"* she cried, " I am brought 
 here against my will, and I implore you to let rae go 
 home." But Albert Palmer thrust her in, and drew 
 her to the parlor, where he placed her on a sofo. He 
 then requested his father to get a light and to sum- 
 mon his mother to the care of their guest. 
 
 When Mr. Palmei* returned, with his wife and a 
 light, Julia sat on the sofa, with her hands clasped on 
 her lap and her head drooping. She wore no bonnet, 
 and her brown hair, dishevelled, flowed down over 
 her shoulders and bosom. She was pale as death. 
 Her lips were slightly parted. She breathed quickly. 
 Her breast heaved with agitation. Her dress, hastily 
 put on while she was attending to her alarmed mother, 
 was in disorder. Her feet were bare. Even Albert 
 Palmer was startled when he beheld that figure of 
 beautiful desolation. His parents stood in mute won- 
 der. Julia, lifting her eyes, discovered that one of 
 hor own sex had entered the room, and springing 
 from the sofa, threw herself at the feet of Mrs. Palmer, 
 clasping her knees and turning up her foce, Avith tears 
 raining from her eyes, while she appealed in broken 
 accents to a woman's compassion for a woman. 
 
ROEBUCK. 261 
 
 " O, save me," she cried ; "let me go to my father 
 and mother. I liave been cruelly torn from them. 
 Their house is destroyed. My father is wounded. 
 My mother is in distress. They may be dying. I 
 know not what is to become of them this dreadful 
 night. Let me go to them. You have a woman's 
 heart. O, have pity on a broken-hearted girl. Release 
 me, O, release me." 
 
 " Rise, Miss Fairfax," said Albert Palmer, taking 
 her by the hand ; " you know not what you say. You 
 are distracted with grief Mother, there has been a 
 terrible scene to-night. Miss Fairfax needs repose. 
 We must, for her own good, do some gentle violence 
 to her wishes. Please conduct her to a chamber and 
 persuade her to take some rest." 
 
 " Hypocrite and tyrant !" exclaimed Julia, rising to 
 her feet, "you are my enemy — my father's foe — a 
 traitor to my country. You are leagued with invaders 
 and oppressors. To you we owe the calamities of 
 this night. You hold me a prisoner. You have torn 
 me from my parents. O, my father ! O, my poor 
 mother!" Again she sunk upon the floor, dissolved 
 in tears, and sobbing as if her heart would break. 
 
 In a few moments she rose again and ran towards 
 the door, saying, " I will go to them." But Albert 
 Palmer intercepted her, seized her, and, can-ying her 
 to a chamber, told his mother to follow him. When 
 they had entered the room he left the two ladies 
 there, locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. 
 He returned to his father, and after relating to him 
 the events of the night, explained to him his plan 
 with reference to Miss Fairfax. She was, he said, 
 without a home. Her father was a prisoner, under 
 grave accusations. He might be long detained or 
 
2G2 ROEBUCK. 
 
 sent out of the State. His property might be taken 
 from him. But if Julia should become Mrs. Palmer 
 it would probably be restored, if not to Colonel Fair- 
 fax, at least to his daughter, through the influence of 
 her new relatives. The hope of thus relieving her 
 parents and of procuring the liberation of her father 
 through the same influence, he believed, would induce 
 her to accept his hand. The greater the distress and 
 danger of her father might become, the more she 
 would be inclined to accede to measures necessary for 
 liis relief Perhaps it would be expedient to have 
 Colonel Fairfax sent to Washington, so that the hopes 
 and fears of his daughter, depiived of communication 
 with him, and uncertain as to his fate, might render 
 her more pliant. Of course, Mr. Palmer and his son 
 would ultimately procure his release, as well as the 
 possession of his property, and his daughter w^ould 
 be provided with a husband and a home. This scheme . 
 appeared to the elder Palmer so Avise and benevolent, 
 that he cheerfully consented, at his son's request, to 
 keep Miss Fairfax in his house and to visit Colonel 
 Wesel the next day, as we have seen he <iid. 
 
 Mrs. Palmer was ignorant of this plan when she 
 found herself shut up in a chamber with Miss Fairfax, 
 and she had nothing to guide her conduct but confi- 
 dence in her son and obedience to his wishes. She 
 could not frame a suitable speech, but she put her 
 arms about Julia and gently urged her to a bed, be- 
 seeching her, in a motherly way, to sleep. The un- 
 happy young lady lay down without resistance, and 
 remained for several hours, not sleeping, but weeping, 
 with her eyes closed and her arms folded over her 
 bosom, without speech or motion. She was alone, 
 friendless, hopeless. She was exhausted in mind and 
 
ROEBUCK. 2G3 
 
 body, by the fatigues, the sniTerings and the terrors 
 of that night. At length, when the day was break- 
 ing, nature yielded to slumber, and she endured, 
 rather than enjoyed, for an hour, a dreamy, restless 
 sleep. She awoke with a more vivid sense of afflic- 
 tion. 
 
 In the morning, Mrs. Palmer was released from 
 confinement by her son, who intimated his plan to 
 her, and while his father was calling on Colonel 
 Wesel, sent her with his compliments to Miss Fair- 
 fax, and requested permission to wait upon the young 
 lady in her chamber. She desired him to excuse her, 
 and even protested against his visit. But be de- 
 clared that it was necessary for him to see her, and 
 his message to that effect was immediately followed 
 by himself He drew up a chair to sit beside her, but 
 she rose, and remained standing. He made no allu- 
 sion to her movement, but in cool and civil tones pro- 
 ceeded to address her. 
 
 "Miss Fairfax, misled by appearances, you have 
 placed an en-oncous construction upon my conduct. 
 I came to offer you an explanation." He paused, but 
 receiving no reply, he resumed. " You have thought 
 me unkind to you, but really my motives have been 
 more than kind. In all that I have done, I have 
 aimed at your welfare and happiness. Perhaps the 
 ardor of my affection for you has impelled me too far. 
 I could not avert the misfortune which has befallen 
 your family. I could not rescue your parents from the 
 military. I saved yourself in the only way that was 
 possible. I brought you to my father's house for 
 shelter. Now, I offer you a home for life. My 
 heart has long been yom's. I now offer you my 
 hand." 
 
264 ROEBUCK. 
 
 While he delivered this speeoli with sedate manner 
 and level voice, Julia stood with averted face, appa- 
 rently unmoved. When he ceased to speak, she 
 turned her eyes full upon him, and still restraining 
 her emotion, she said, " Mr. Palmer, your motives are 
 known to yourself If you would prove to me thxit 
 they are kind, set me free." 
 
 '• I have proved more — my love. I offer you the 
 strongest proof of love." 
 
 "Surely, you would not hold me a captive, and 
 take advantage of my captivity to press a suit which 
 has once been respectfully declined." 
 
 " Ix)ve, my dear lady, is blind to circumstances, 
 and deaf to refusal. Let me believe that time has 
 rendered you more favorable to my wishes. "Let me 
 hope that you will give me a right to protect you in 
 all dangers and difficulties. Until you decide upon 
 my proposal, I cannot consider any other subject." 
 
 '• If that is a covert threat, I must speak without re- 
 serve, and tell you that there is an insurmountable 
 barrier to your proposal. Let the subject be dis- 
 missed forever." 
 
 " I cannot imagine a barrier really insurmountable, 
 Miss Fairfax. May I ask what it is ]" 
 
 " I — yes — my hand is promised to another." 
 
 "Indeed!" he said, commencing his reply in the 
 measm'ed accents which had hitherto mocked his vic- 
 tmi, but the avowal of an engagement with a rival 
 whom he hated already, because he believed him to 
 be a successful rival, roused his anger, and as he went 
 on, he spoke with manifest asperity; "such engage- 
 ments are not usually deemed irrevocable by young 
 ladies. Times have changed. When I shall convince 
 you that the person to whom you have incautiously 
 promised your hand is unworthy" 
 
' 11 O E B U C K . 2G5 
 
 " Unwortliy, sir ! Can a gentleman disparage a 
 rival'? Can a man traduce the absent? Can a being 
 with a heart insult a captive lady by maligning her 
 affianced '? Hugh Fitzhugh is that which you prove 
 yourself not to be — a man and a gentleman." 
 
 " I admire your spirit, Miss Fairfax, but you have 
 not quite fathoined the question. There are other af- 
 fections and obligations sometimes to be considered, 
 even before a girl's fancy for a lover. Your love and 
 duty to your father" 
 
 *' My dear, my noble father ! What can you tell 
 me of him V 
 
 "That, in disposing of your hand, you may do well 
 to consider his safety." 
 
 " I do not understand. What threat lurks in your 
 words and sneer ?" 
 
 " Be seated, Miss Fairfox. Let us discuss this mat- 
 ter rationally. You will not sit? Well, as you 
 please. You are aware that he is wounded, and a 
 prisoner." 
 
 " O, Heavenly Father, protect him." 
 
 " He will be sent to Washington." 
 
 " To Washington ?" 
 
 " And detained there as a prisoner of state." 
 
 "A prisoner of state! Then he is lost. May 
 Iloaven have mercy on him, for man will have 
 none." 
 
 " He can be saved." 
 
 " How ? Tell me how. I will bless you, as our 
 good angel." 
 
 " It depends upon yourself alone." 
 
 " Thank God ! Then he will be saved. Bid me 
 toil, sufler, die to save him, and he shall be saved." 
 
 " There is no need of toil, or suffering, or death. 
 
 12 
 
^QQ ROEBUCK. 
 
 Throngh the influence of my father and myself, I 
 doubt not," he can be released. K in bestowinr^ your 
 hand" , ° ^ 
 
 « O, horror." 
 
 "You give me a right to solicit a favor to voir 
 family as a fovor to myself; the loyalty of my family, 
 and my services may be accounted as an atonement 
 for the guilt of your father, and we may procure his 
 release. I have received some tokens of considera- 
 tion in high quart ei*s. My father is trusted by the 
 authorities. But it would be useless, it might be 
 deemed offensive if we were to intercede for an ob- 
 noxious person having no claims upon iis. Family 
 ties would entitle us to ask that he be restored to us. 
 It depends upo» yourself alone to release your father 
 fi-om captivity." 
 
 While he was speaking. Julia's head sunk down 
 upon her breast, and tears streamed from her eyes. 
 At last she fell upon her knees before him, and im- 
 plored him to be merciful. 
 
 "You say you have power to save him. O, save 
 my father, and spare his A^Tetched child. Do not — 
 do not annex a cruel condition to an act of mercy. 
 Respect my truth. Spare my grief O, save my 
 father." 
 
 " Rise, Miss Fairfax. This abasement is unneces- 
 sary. Your father s safety rests with yourself Yoa 
 understand the condition." 
 
 " Then you are inexorable f 
 
 " I am."' 
 
 "O, my father! Would that his wisdom could 
 now dh-ect me. Will you not let me consult him V* 
 
 " Xo." 
 
 " Wounded — a prisoner — sent away to perish in a 
 
ROEBUCK. 267 
 
 cell.. If my death could save him! If anything bwt 
 
 falsehood and dishonor • Sir, I am alone. You 
 
 will not let me consult my father. I must recall, then, 
 the lessons he has taught me. I will be true, and 
 have the consequences to Heaven. I cannot violate 
 my engagement without perfidy. I cannot become 
 your wife without falsehood. I will preserve my truth." 
 
 " Then you reject me again. Miss V 
 
 " I can give no other answer." 
 
 " Reflection may change your mind. Good morn- 
 ing. Miss Fairfax." 
 
 He left the room. Julia threw herself upon the 
 bed and gave way to a conflict of emotions. Some- 
 times she reproached herself, and was ready to recall 
 Palmer and submit to his terms, rather than leave her 
 father in captivity and in danger of a more terrible 
 fate. But his image rising before her mind, rebuked 
 her meditated falsehood. She thought of him as, 
 while she sat upon his knee, he had often taught her 
 the lessons of truth and fortitude and faith. His sim- 
 ple dignity and loving authority again impressed her 
 heart as they had impressed it in her childhood. She 
 felt assured that he would approve her decision. He 
 would sacrifice himself for truth and for her happi- 
 ness — ah, yes, that thought of her own happiness 
 again awakened self-reproach. Her happiness was 
 involved in the question of her father's safety. Her 
 love for Plugh Fitjshugh, thrilling her whole frame at 
 that moment, mighj it not be selfish ? Ought she to 
 sacrifice her father to her own happiness "? She was 
 racked with doubt. Her soul, exhausting itself in 
 agitation and perplexity, wavered and groped for the 
 path of duty. Believing that she had done right, and 
 yet doubting, she sunk at last to sleep, through phy- 
 
208 K (} E B I! C K . 
 
 sical and mental weariness. She slept several Itonr;^. 
 Wlieu she awoke, Mrs. Palmer sat at her be<lsi<le. 
 Tljat fluent lady, having a speech ready, began at once : 
 
 "These are sad times, Miss Fairfax. Jlut t /upon 
 m'ft'in'ur, you know. You have lost one home but 
 you are offered another — the darkest hour is just be- 
 fore the dawn — We must bow to the decrees of Pro- 
 vidence -^-When we submit a cause to the arbitrament 
 of arms wo must abide the event. — We have deter- 
 mined Avhat id best for you, and you should be thank- 
 ful. — Albert's plan is the best for all- parties — His 
 father thinks so, and he is very wise — Albert is one 
 of the kindest men alive — You "vvill think so when 
 you know him better — I have always said he was. — 
 He is firm — very firm — justique tenorem Jlectere non 
 odium cogit non gratia suadet, as the poet says — he 
 never gives up a project. — So, my dear Miss Fairfax, 
 you had better consent " • 
 
 " Mrs. Palmer, you seem to be an accomplice in 
 yom' son's scheme, which I begin to comprehend. 
 My com'se is taken. If you are appointed to be ray 
 jailer, I will thank you to spare me your lecture. If 
 you are permitted to leave me alone, I beg you to 
 grant me that relief" 
 
 '• Albert thinks that in your present frame of mind 
 solitude would not be good for you. — SolUudincm 
 ficiuut et pacem appellant. — That is not right — it is 
 not good for man to be alone, nor woman either, as 
 the Bible says " 
 
 *' Then let me have silence, I pray you." 
 
 In the evening of that day, and during the next 
 day, the importunate suitor repeated his visits, and 
 endeavored, by every art at his command, to over- 
 come the reluctance of his captive to become lus 
 
ROEBUCK. 2G9 
 
 bride. Wlien her faculties had recovered from the 
 first shock of calamity, she was able to detect the 
 drift of his plot, and to weigh his threats and his 
 persuasions with a clear judgment. She doubted no 
 more as to her duty. He found her purpose immova- 
 ble. His persecution sonfetimes wrung tears from 
 her eyes, and sometimes provoked her to repel him 
 with indignant scorn. He was neither melted by her 
 sorrow nor shaken by her scorn. His cruelty was 
 cool, but he was not insensible to the impression of 
 beauty that vai'ied with her varying passion. Love 
 for one whom he tortured was impossible ; but the 
 toi'ture revealed charms in the victim that kindled 
 desire in a pitiless breast. 
 
270 ^ROEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 MARK MAKLIN. 
 
 About senset on the second day of her imprison- 
 ment; the chamber in which Miss Faiifaix was de- 
 tained, was again entered by Albert Palmer. She 
 arose and stood as she always did while he was in the 
 room, thus silently protesting against his intrusion. 
 He advanced, addressing her in words of ordinary 
 salutation, with an air of deferential courtesy. Re- 
 ceiving no response, he proceeded to speak in a strain 
 of sentiment, which became warmer as he went on, 
 and, finally, less delicate. With some ardor of expres- 
 sion on his lips and in his eyes, he moved towards 
 her, with an arm extended, as if he would lay his hand 
 upon her. Stepping backward she waved him off, 
 and said, quietly, but decisively, "no nearer, sir." 
 He paused, clasped his hands together, and spoke in 
 an obsequious tone : 
 
 " Ah, my dear Julia, do not continue to trample on 
 my love." 
 
 " Mr. Palmer," she replied, " I beg that this insult- 
 ing mockery shall cease." 
 
 " Then you doom your father to a dungeon ?" he 
 asked, with a sneer. 
 
 " My duty to my father, sir, is not a subject for dis- 
 cussion between you and me. Use it not to barb your 
 taunts. I am now proof against them. I know you 
 now and I despise you, I detest you, I defy you." 
 . He tm*ned to the chamber door and locked it. He 
 
n C) K B U C K . 271 
 
 then returned towards Julia, his eyes glaring with 
 ignoble passions. "By Heaven," he cried, "you 
 shall consent to marriage or prate no more of honor." 
 She retired before him, but springing forward, he 
 attempted to seize her^ She eluded his grasp by step- 
 ping up on the bed. Retreating to the opposite side 
 of it, which was against a wall, she stood there in Oi 
 posture of defiance, pointing a pistol at Palmer. Her 
 movements, as well as his, were so rapid that his face 
 almost touched the weapon before he was aware that 
 she held it. Seeing it then, he started back with a 
 gesture of fear, and stood in a shrinking attitude, gat- 
 ing at the pistol. While they thus confronted each 
 other, they heard a light rap on the door, and under- 
 stood that Mrs. Palmer desired admittance. He slowly 
 retreated to the door and opened it. As he retired, 
 Julia descended from the bed. She had restored the 
 little weapon to her pocket when Mrs. Palmer entered, 
 and her son, scowling at Julia, went out. 
 
 The small pistol which Julia had held in her hand, 
 rather a toy than a weapon, was one which her father 
 had procured for her after she had been endangered 
 by negroes, as related in the preceding pages. He 
 gave her some lessons in the use of it, so that she 
 might be able to defend herself in sudden peril, such 
 as the recent events and the condition of the country 
 led him to apprehend. She seldom earned it, how- 
 ever, and it was by chance that, when she was prepar- 
 ing to flee from the mansion of Roebuck, she put on a 
 gown, in the pocket of which the pistol had been left. 
 1ji the excitements of that night she did not observe 
 it, but she discovered it the next day. She remem- 
 bered it when Palmer attempted to seize her, and 
 instantly availed herself of it, as we have seen, for her 
 defence. 
 
272 Pv O E B U C K . 
 
 When she was af^aiii left with Mrs. Palmer she 
 walked to and fro, agitated with an indignant sense 
 of insult and outrage. She uttered no word of 
 complaint to the mother and agent of lier persecutor. 
 Her spirit was bruised, but it was roused. Still alone, 
 in the power of her enemies, she defied them. She 
 would not bow before a foe who left her uo choice but 
 between defiance and dishonor. 
 
 Night came on, but, at Julia's request, the room 
 was not lighted. She sat down by a window and 
 looked out at the sky. Mrs. Palmer, seated in a rock- 
 ing chair at the opposite side of the chamber, l)egan 
 to yawn, and finally fell asleep. The night was clear 
 and still. While Julia gazed at the bright stars, her 
 excitement gradually abated. When her veins yet 
 thi-obbed with passion, the quiet heavens seemed to 
 her imagination to regard with cruel indifference 
 the woes and crimes of earth. But as the tide of vio- 
 lent emotion subsided, higher and serener sentiments 
 responded more faithfully to the sublime sense of that 
 eternal quiet. " It is not indifference to AVi'ong," she 
 said to herself, " that we should read in those sleep- 
 less eyes of Heaven, but their far-seeing watch regards 
 the end as well as the beginning of these dark scenes 
 in which we grope and suffer. Then* serene silence is 
 the homage of nature to the unerring Providence 
 which guides all events on earth as in Heaven. 
 Darkling, but not dismayed, I will endeavor to walk 
 by the light that comes from above, and trust the 
 consequences to Him who oi-dain*s right and redresses 
 evil." 
 
 While her mind was composing itself by such re- 
 flections, she was startled by the sight of a man's head 
 near the window. Wondering, but rather hoping thar 
 
ROEBUCK. 273 
 
 fearing, she leaned lier face against the pane and 
 looked out into the dark. She discovered that the 
 man was upon a ladder, and as he drew near to the 
 window, he made a sign of silence to her. She did 
 not recognize him, but believing that all her enemies 
 were within the house, she readily concluded that he 
 was a friend. Listening for the deep breathing of 
 Mrs. Palmer, and being thus assured that she still 
 slept, Julia opened the sash quietly and heard hei 
 name whispered. "What do you want ?' she whis- 
 pered, in reply. " Follow me ;" and the man descended 
 the ladder. Dreading no danger equal to that v>^hich 
 she left behind, she followed without hesitation. 
 When they were upon the ground, the man, who was 
 then seen to wear the Confederate uniform, led her in 
 silence to a clump of trees at some distance from the 
 house. There they found another person, mounted, 
 and holding the bridles of two horses. There was a 
 woman's saddle on one of them, and, as Julia soon 
 discovered, this was her favorite, Arab. First assisting 
 her to mount, her conductor got upon his horse and 
 the three rode away through the fields. They moved 
 cautiously, and not a word was spoken until, after rid- 
 ing a mile or more, they entered a wood. 
 
 " Now, Miss Fairfax," said the man who released 
 her, and whom she recognized as Lieutenant Mark 
 Marlin, while she knew his companion to be Baxter, 
 " we are safe for the .present. It is for you to say 
 where we shall go." 
 
 " To my father, if I can," she replied. 
 " We hear that he has bsen sent out of the county." 
 " Alas, it is true, then. Let me go to my mother." 
 " We will conduct you to her. She is now about 
 ten miles from here. We must ride pretty briskly if 
 
274 K O E B U C K . 
 
 you plexse, because, after leaving you, we must travel 
 as far as we can before morning, for our own safety and 
 and to rejoin our regiment." 
 
 As tiiey rode rapidly and cautiously over rough by- 
 ways to avoid pursuit, they could hold but little con- 
 versation. Julia, however, learned from Marlin what 
 he knew about her mother, and that Baxter had ob- 
 tained from blind Pete the information on which they 
 had acted in facilitating her escape. Thus they knew 
 in what chamber Miss Fairfax was detained, wjiere 
 her horse could be found, where a laddei* was kept, 
 and other particulars, the knowledge of which made this 
 enterprise tolerably safe and easy to the two Confede- 
 rates. Her horse had been taken from Roebuck by 
 the Federal soldiers, but, by order of Colonel Wesel, 
 was delivered to Mr. Palmer, at that gentleman's re- 
 quest. He stated to the colonel that the young lady 
 had taken refuge in his house, and insinuated that she 
 did not agree with her father in political sentiment 
 and that she might possibly become connected witt 
 his own family. These representations served not 
 only to secure the possession of her horse, but to 
 silence inquiry, if it should otherwise become known 
 to the colonel that Miss Fairfax was at Mr. Palmer's. 
 Baxter, after his escape from the village, concealed 
 himself in the neighborhood until the next morning, 
 and then starting to overtake his regiment, he fell in 
 with Mark Marlin, who had come home to take care 
 of his sister. Xotwithstanding his own affliction and 
 the sad duties which the death of his sister imposed 
 upon him, the lieutenant, as soon as he heard of Miss 
 Fairfax's situation, resolved to rescue her. He imme- 
 diately set about the attempt, with Baxter's assist- 
 ance, and we have seen the result 
 
ROEBUCK. 275 
 
 Arriving before the liouse in wliich Mrs. Fairfax 
 was then a guest, Marlin informed Julia tliat he and 
 his companion must leave her, and requested that 
 their presence in the county might not be mentioned, 
 until they would have time to travel beyond the reacli 
 of the enemy. 
 
 '* How can I ever thank you as you deserve, gen- 
 tlemen V* said Julia. 
 
 " I am still your debtor, Miss Fair/ax ; but, if you 
 please,- we will leave these things to be spoken of 
 some other time ;" replied Marlin, to whom Baxter 
 left the conversation with Miss Fairfax ; for his own 
 audacity was cowed, and his saucy tongue was mute 
 in presence of a lady whom he was obliged to 
 respect. 
 
 " I know," she said, " that I must not detain you, 
 and I fear that already your delay, for my sake, has 
 exposed you to danger. Never can I cease to be 
 gt-ateful to you. In happier times, for us all, I hope, 
 I may be able to prove my gratitude." 
 
 " Have you any message for the regiment — the 
 boys, Miss Fairfax." 
 
 " Tell the brave men that the hearts of their country 
 women are always with them. May God bless them. 
 Tell Colonel Fitzhugh that — that I — I have not for 
 gotten him." 
 
 " You remember, then, as gallant a soldier as ever 
 drew a sword. Farewell, Miss Fairfax." 
 
 "Farewell, Mr. Marlin; farewell, Mr. Baxter. I 
 shall never forget" 
 
 Baxter briefly echoed her farewell, while she shook 
 hands with them both, and they hurried away before 
 she concluded the sentence. Julia, alone, approached 
 the house in which she expected to meet her mother. 
 
276 ROEBUCK. 
 
 At that late hour all was silent, but alarms were then 
 80 frequent, that every family was alert. As soon as 
 she knocked at the door an upper window was cau- 
 tiously opened, and a voice inquired who was there. 
 She gave the necessary explanation, and was admit- 
 .ted. Pier mother, who slept but little, recognized her 
 voice, and immediately called her into her own cham- 
 ber. The meeting between :hem could .not be with- 
 out joy, nor yet could it be without soitow. To be thus 
 united, after such a separation, was rapture. To re- 
 mind each other of the absence, suffering and danger 
 of another, so dear to both, was anguish. In smiles 
 and tears, in embraces and regrets, in convei-sation 
 about the one on whom their anxious thoughts were 
 centred, they spent the hours, until the sun was high 
 in the heavens. It was not until tlie flush of excite- 
 ment faded from her mother's face, and the pitiless 
 light of day fell upon it, that Julia was fully aware of 
 the ravages that terror and affliction had made there. 
 When she looked upon that form so frail, those 
 cheeks so wan, the pallid lips and the sunken eyes, 
 apprehension for her mother's health divided her 
 heart with anxiety for her father's safety. 
 
 Julia's sensibility vras both delicate and warm. 
 But no excess of feeling ever prevailed long over the 
 clear judgment and steady sense of duty which habi- 
 tually regulated her conduct. Under a delicate sur- 
 face of feminine beauty, grace and tenderness, her 
 character contained a strengtli of principle whicli 
 made even the play of her emotions, like the vibra- 
 tions of a watch-spring, contribute to the practical 
 uses of life. Her sympathy with sickness and dis- 
 tress did not vanish in sighs. It prompted her to 
 give relief with quiet and thoughtful energy, whilst 
 
ROEBUCK. 277 
 
 only the extreme gentleness of her ministrations 
 showed how much of another's suffering she felt as 
 her own. Thus, during the next few days, she de- 
 voted herself to the care of her afflicted mother. 
 Knowing her tastes and habits, anticipating her wants 
 with quick intelligence, providing for her physical 
 comfort with untiring diligence, her daughter also en- 
 deavored to soothe her mind. If anything could have 
 had that effect, it would have been the presence of 
 Julia. Withdrawing her thoughts from her own 
 troubles in order that she might win her mother from 
 despondency, she became almost cheerful. Her 
 noiseless step seemed rather light from hope than 
 stealthy from fear. When- to the loveliness of her 
 person, and the sweetness of her countenance, was ad- 
 ded the tender earnestness of filial affection, she looked, 
 while she hovered over her mother's pillow, as if her 
 love alone might dispel all gloom from the brow on 
 which her soft, white hand was fondly laid. She ex- 
 erted all the charms of her voice and conversation to 
 banish the spectre of despair that haunted her mother 
 by day and by night. Yet, she found that, as the 
 reader already knows, the delicate lady continued to 
 pine and v/aste away. Indeed, Julia became con- 
 vinced that the life of the wife depended upon the 
 restoration of the husband to liberty. Father and 
 mother — the lives of both, she believed, were in peril, 
 und might depend on the same contingency. 
 
 When she had arrived at this conclusion, her 
 thoughts uaturally reverted to the proposal of Palmer, 
 which, as he declared, might have led to the release 
 of her fother. But, even now, she could not repent 
 that she had rejected it. She remembered it with 
 increased disgust, when it appeared to her as a profli- 
 
278 ROEBUCK. , 
 
 gate proposal to traffic with two lives so dear to her, 
 so worthy of honor, and so afflicted. But it was not 
 in her natiii'e to look on misery without an effort to 
 relieve it, and, least of all, the misery of her own 
 parents. Her mind addressed itself with customary 
 directness and force to fhe question how she might 
 procure the restoration of her father to his family. 
 After much reflection, she came to a resolution, which 
 she first disclosed to Mrs. Fitzhuo:h. 
 
 That lady treated JuUa as a daughter and shared all 
 her cares and counsels. She, too, believed that the 
 days of Mrs. Fairfiix would be few unless her husband 
 were released, and that his life might be endangered by 
 his imprisonment under the actual circumstances. Of 
 course, she participated in his daughter's desire to 
 obtain his liberation. But there seemed to be no 
 means within the power of the two women to effect 
 that object. They were assured that the Federal 
 officer commanding in the county was hostile t© Col- 
 onel Fairfax, and that the Palmers were accomplices 
 in the oppression practised upon him, if they were not 
 the instigators. It was not deemed possible to induce 
 those men to relax the rigor of persecution except 
 upon a condition known only to Julia, and regarded 
 by her with horror. The two ladies discussed the 
 subject several times without a satisfactory result. At 
 last, when it was again renewed, Julia said to Mrs. 
 Fitzhugh — "I believe I can obtain my father's re- 
 lease." 
 
 '* How is it possible, my dear Julia V 
 
 " I will go to Washington and petition the Federal 
 authorities." 
 
 '' You are a brave girl, Julia, to make such an 
 attempt, but it would be useless." 
 
ROEBUCK. 279 
 
 • " I hope not, Mrs. Fitzhugli, but, at all events, I 
 may succeed, and there appears to be no other chance 
 of saving their lives. I will try." 
 
 " What rational ground can you find to hope for 
 success ? It is not probable that you will ever reach 
 Washington. I say nothing of the dangers by the 
 way, for I know you will not be deterred by them, 
 and, my dear child, I cannot say that you ought to be. 
 But if you were in Washington, the authorities will 
 certainly act according to the reports and suggestions 
 of their own ofiicers and adherents in the county. 
 What else can they know of your father f 
 
 " That seems plausible. But I imagine that men in 
 high office must be free from some of the bitter and 
 vulgar animosity w^hich is apt to affect inferior agents. 
 Besides, they are remote from the intrigues of this 
 neighborhood. Surely there is some one in authority 
 who, in spite of political virulence, will feel compas- 
 sion for the sufferings of so good a man and of his 
 innocent wife." 
 
 " Alas, I fear that the military among us are but too 
 faithful representatives of their government. Was not 
 Colonel Tremaine removed to make room for the pre- 
 sent commander V 
 
 " These circumstances and many others are discour- 
 ac^ing. But I have reflected upon them all. I see 
 discouragement but not impossibility. Since we have 
 thought of no other plan that is even within the range 
 of possibility, I am resolved to try this one. I cannot 
 sit still and see my mother die without an effort to save 
 her. Even the hope which my undertaking will inspire 
 may arrest her decline. I intreat you, if you can, to 
 encourage her and to remove any objection that she 
 may oppose to my attempt." 
 
280 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " If yoii are resolved, I will not continue to urge 
 arguments which might discourage you without 
 changing your purpose. But how do you intend to 
 travel ?" 
 
 '• On horseback and alone. There is no other 
 way." 
 
 " You cannot pass tlirough the Federal lines with- 
 out a passport. " 
 
 '• I must avoid them. Of course, I cannot obtain a 
 passport from those who have sent my father to 
 Washington." 
 
 " I am not thought to be a timid woman, Julia, but 
 the dangers of such a journey through a country over- 
 run with armies, marauding parties and other enemies, 
 aj^pear to me — but I must not frighten you." 
 
 " Oar Heavenly Father will shield me." 
 
 " I pray tiiat He may." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax, when informed of her daughter's pur- 
 pose, shuddered at the prospect of another separation, 
 and di-eaded the perils which Julia must encounter. 
 But the hope of seeing her husband once more, with 
 the appeals made to her by her daughter, and the 
 arguments of Mrs. Fitzhugh, overcame her opposition. 
 After the matter was settled, Julia pleased herself 
 with the fancy that her mother's eyes were lighted with 
 more animation than they had shown since the night 
 of her dausrhter's retm*n to her. 
 
ROEBUCK. . 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 But little delay was necessary for the preparations 
 which Julia had to make for her long and dangerous 
 journey. Not much could be carried, if she had desired 
 to cany much. The fire which destroyed her father's 
 house consumed her wardrobe, and country ladies had 
 but poor opportunities of shopping in Dixie during 
 the war. She might be ready to travel almost as soon 
 as Arab could be saddled. She had no money, and 
 could obtain none, except a few dollars in specie and a 
 supply of treasury notes, which were almost worthless 
 beyond the Confederate lines, though they were the 
 exclusive currency of the Confederacy. She was to 
 travel alone, as well because nearly all those who might 
 have been her protectors were in the army or driven 
 from the county, as because, in the country through 
 which she had to pass, a male companion might chal- 
 lenge annoyance and could not defend her. It was a 
 country where even an army of Confederates could not 
 hold its ground. 
 
 With a brave but sad heart she took leave of her 
 friends. The parting between her and her mother 
 v>'as a severe affliction to both. Tiie hope of her hus- 
 band's release sustained Mrs. Fairfax, and Julia, im- 
 pelled by love and duty, would not falter at the first 
 of those trials which she had anticipated. Early in 
 the morning she set out upon her solitary journey, 
 and rode nearly the entii'e day without pausing to rest. 
 
282 - ROEBUCir. -^ i 
 
 She felt but little fatigue. She was a delicate woman, 
 and had been nurtured in wealth and refinement but 
 not in luxury. The habits of her life had tended to 
 confirm rather than enervate her strength, both of 
 body and of mind. It was a rare state *f society in 
 which nature was thus refined and strengthened at the 
 same time, as u-on is changed to steel. I 
 
 During the first day she traveled through a part of * 
 the country that was familiar to her. Without much 
 difficulty she avoided the most frequented highways 
 and places of resort for the Federals, and she neither 
 met any troops nor encountered any impediment. 
 She saw but few people. Not many remained at 
 home, except old men, women and children^ and they 
 generally kept close to their houses. Some boys and 
 old men and a few women were at work in the fields. 
 Once or twice Julia saw them plowing, with cows. 
 Horses and mules were not to be seen. Some dwell- 
 ings were wholly deserted ; the doors and windows 
 were broken ; the fruit-trees about them were hacked 
 down ; the gardens were destroyed ; the barns, fences 
 and stacks had been burned. Here and there brick 
 chimneys of wooden houses that had been devoured 
 by the flames, stood as milestones of invasion. A few 
 slaves, old, decrepid or faithful, remained with the white 
 inhabitants, but most of them had straggled off. Now 
 and then Julia passed a negro, lying asleep at the way- 
 side, with his shining face upturned to the sun, or saw 
 stout black fellows strolling about in listless indolence. 
 The lethargy of that race seemed to forebode a relapse 
 into lazy barbarism as soon as the spur and rein of 
 the white man's authority were withdrawn, as tiie 
 neglected soil was resuming the unfruitful wildnes-i 
 of nature. The desolation which Julia witnessed 
 
ROEBUCK. 283 
 
 deepened her sadness. But it is impossible to record 
 all she saw and thought and felt on that journey with- 
 out overspreading these pages with intolerable gloom. 
 In our reminiscences of those times we must soften the 
 truth if we would obtain a hearing or belief 
 
 Late in the afternoon, Julia arrived at the house of 
 a friend, and there she spent the night. She heard a 
 rumor there, that during the day a party of Federal 
 soldiers had been seen within a few miles of the place. 
 This rumor, however, scarcely added a new fear to 
 the constant apprehension that her journey might be 
 interrupted. The next morning she took the road 
 again, traveling through a district less known to her 
 than that through which she had passed the day be- 
 fore. She was, therefore, obliged to keep on the 
 main highway. When she had pursued her solitary 
 way two or three hours, she looked back, and saw 
 several horsemen about a mile behind her, and appa- 
 rently moving towards her. Fearing they were Fed- 
 eral soldiers, she put her horse to a quicker pace. 
 They followed, however, still more rapidly than she 
 rode. For a short time they were concealed from her 
 by a hill over which she was passing, when she dis- 
 covered them. In a few minutes she saw them gal- 
 loping over the crest of the hill, not more than half a 
 mile from her. Then she imagined that she could 
 distinguish the tall form of Albert Palmer among 
 them. 
 
 In fact, he was there. He had not discovered her 
 place of retreat after she disappeared from his father's 
 house. But, being with some cavalry, that were 
 foraging or ravaging near the place at which she 
 spent the first night of her journey, he learned in the 
 morning from the gossip of a negro, that she had set 
 
284 ROEBUCK. 
 
 out from tliere alone. Immediately he started, with a 
 few followers, in pursuit of her. 
 
 As soon as she became convinced that she was pur- 
 sued and suspected that Palmer was among the pur- 
 suers, she put Arab to his utmost speed. The cavalry 
 behind her used theii- spurs freely. Palmer, dashing 
 off before the others, came on at a furious gait. Julia, 
 a practiced horse-woman, on a fleet and spirited horse, 
 could not easily be overtaken ; but, for three or four 
 miles, the chase pressed Arab to his mettle. The gal- 
 lant horse, excited by the race, seemed to share the 
 determination of his rider to distance the pursuers. 
 Gradually he widened the space between him and the 
 foremost of the cavalry. Relying upon his qualities, 
 Julia rode with steady courage, until, suddenly, she 
 beheld a cloud of dust rising from the road before 
 her. 'Suspecting at once that there was a larger body 
 of Federal cavalry in front of her, and that no chance 
 of escape was left, her heart sunk for a moment. But 
 she looked back, and the sight of Palmer, in eager 
 pursuit, reminded her that, whatever might be before 
 her, she was leaving her most cruel enemy behind. 
 She resolved to go forwai-d. Onward she flew. Her 
 rapid flight soon brought her in sight of five or six 
 horsemen who were approaching on the road before 
 her. Onward still she flew. She was very near 
 tliem before she could discern, under the dust which 
 covered them, that their uniforms were of Confed- 
 erate grey. Checking her horse, she cried out to 
 them — " I am pm*sued by Federal cavalry." 
 
 "How many f 
 
 " I have seen ten or twelve. One of them rides 
 far in advance of the rest. There! He comes in 
 sight." 
 
ROEBUCK. 285 
 
 " Ride on, madam. You are safe. Colonel Fitz- 
 hugh's regiment is not far behind us. We must move 
 forward." 
 
 They started at a brisk trot. When Palmer saw 
 them first, he thought they must be Federals. Ho 
 was almost among them before he discovered his mis- 
 tike. Then, wlieeling his horse, he was pursued in 
 his turn. Julia saw no more of him. Riding slowly 
 on, and wondering at the chance which brought her 
 so unexpectedly out of danger into the protection of 
 Hugh Fitzhugh, she saw a cloud of dust, Avhich, at a 
 considerable distance, indicated the approach of his 
 regiment. 
 
 A spring, near the side of the road, attracted her 
 attention, and she stopped to rest and refresh herself 
 She sat down on the grass, near the spring, and, after 
 drinking, she bathed her brows with her hands. The 
 spring was shaded by trees and vines. With the in- 
 stinct of a woman, expecting a lover, she arranged 
 her hair and dress, while she waited for the regiment 
 to come up. When the head of the column drew 
 near, she stood upon a grassy knoll near the spring, 
 under a canopy of vines. She held the bridle, while 
 her horse, with distended nostrils, ears erect, and 
 arched neck, gazed at the warlike array. Her veil 
 was thrown back, her fair complexion was rosy with 
 excitement, her hazel eyes were moistened with the 
 mystery of tears that were not weeping, and her 
 graceful form stood a picture of living loveliness in a 
 frame of sylvan beauty. 
 
 When Hugh Fitzhugh, turning Irom the dusty road 
 to the spring, suddenly beheld her, he was amazed, 
 enraptured, alarmed. "My Julia," he exclaimed, as 
 he leaped from his horse, and ran towards her. Has- 
 
286. ROEBUCK. 
 
 tening to meet him, she threw herself into his arms, 
 and burst into tears. 
 
 " Julia, my own Julia, why is this ? Why do you 
 weep ? Why are you here ?" 
 
 For some moments she was unable to answer his 
 anxiously repeated questions. But when the par- 
 oxysm of emotion was passed, she lifted her head, and 
 looked in his face, while she smiled through her 
 tears. 
 
 " Pardon me. It was a woman's weakness. I weep 
 for joy or grief-^-I know not why. But it is over. 1 
 can talk to you now. I must not detain you long, 
 and I have much to say." 
 
 Then, glancing at the cavalry, she blushed deeply 
 at the display of emotion Avhich she had made. She 
 drew her veil over her face and whispered, " O, for- 
 give me, Hugh." He pressed her hand, and was 
 leading her to a seat, when they heard a shout. Al- 
 ready her name was passing from mouth to mouth, 
 and as it ran along the ranks, the men began to cheer 
 for Miss Fairfax. Many of them knew and admired 
 her. Others cheered, because they loved their col- 
 onel, and knew or suspected that he loved her. 
 Finally, some there were who shouted, simply be- 
 cause cheers are contagious. At all events, the name 
 of Miss Fairfax was echoed with clieers along the 
 whole line. The enthusiasm waxed warmer and 
 warmer, until Julia, turning her face to the regiment, 
 raised her veil, and gracefully acknowledged the bois- 
 terous salutation. 
 
 While the regiment marched on, Hugli Fitzhugh, 
 seated beside Julia, learned from her the circumstan- 
 ces which led to this meeting. They were soon joined 
 by her uncle, Doctor Dick, who had been with his 
 
n O E B U C K . 287 
 
 company since the opening of the spring campaign. 
 •* What, Colonel Julia, have you come to take com- 
 mand in person ?" he exclaimed. Then he shook both 
 her hands and kissed her over and over. It was not 
 long, however, before he was seriously engaged in the 
 discussion to which Julia's communication gave rise. 
 BotJi to her uncle and to her lover, her journey ap- 
 [>eared too hazardous, and the object of it wholly 
 impracticable. They urged her to abandon it and re- 
 turn with them. There was a long debate, in which 
 their solicitude for her safety contended with her 
 anxiety for the liberty of her father and lives of both 
 her parents. They found her filial devotion invincible, 
 and nothino: was left for them but to consider how 
 they might contribute to the ease and safety of her 
 journey. Colonel Fitzhugh proposed to send a guard 
 with her, but gave np that proposition when she men- 
 tioned her reasons for traveling alone. The doctor 
 then declared that he would himself escort her. He 
 Insisted that, with his servant, Caleb, he could relieve 
 her of any troubles and embarrassments to which a 
 woman traveling alone was liable, and that a little old 
 man, as he styled himself, and apoor old negro, would 
 not provoke more hostility than a lady. She doubted 
 the prudence of the proposition, and would have saved 
 her uncle from dangers which were useless. But he 
 combated her objections with some plausibility of 
 argument, and more pertinacity of purpose. He' was 
 seconded by her lover, and finally prevailed. Colonel 
 Fitzhugh envied the doctor his office, and would gladly 
 have taken his place if propriety and duty had per- 
 mitted. He lingered beside her after this matter vras 
 arranged as long as his conscience allowed, and tlicy 
 cxchanjjed some of those tender words which are pro- 
 
288 ROEBUCK. 
 
 fane<l by publication. Besides the natural reluctance 
 of a lover to leave her, he felt a presentiment that this 
 parting might be final, for he knew that they were 
 both going into danger. But the thought of his own 
 coming danger reminded him of the urgency of his 
 military duty. Without knowing the design which 
 he Avould hasten to fulfil, at the peril of his life, she 
 knew and appreciated the demands of military service, 
 and would not detain him.- With a sorrowful farewell 
 they parted. 
 
 Doctor Fairfiix summoned the faithful Caleb, who, 
 with others of his class, was riding at leisure behind 
 the regiment. He had followed his master whenever 
 he was with the army, and, in that branch of the art 
 military whicli fell within his sphere, he had acquired 
 the ready skill of an old campaig;ier. After testifying 
 his delight at meeting with Miss Julia, by bows and 
 grins and words of learned length and thundering* 
 sound, he applied himself, under the doctor's direc- 
 tion, to the care of the horses and the arrangement of 
 the baggage of the expedition in which his master had 
 just enlisted. With his expert aid everything was 
 ready for the road in a short time, and Julia, with her 
 escort, resumed her journey. 
 
 During the rest of the day no event occurred to 
 them of sufficient importance to justify recital. While 
 they rode along, Julia related to her uncle in detail all 
 that had recently happened at Roebuck and in its 
 vicinity. The doctor was often moved to indigna- 
 tion, and the misfortunes of his brother and his bro- 
 ther's wife more than once drew tears to his eyes. As 
 to her own sufferings, while she was a captive in Mr. 
 Palmer's house, she maintained a peculiar reserve in 
 speaking both to her uncle and Hugh Fitzhugh. They 
 
ROEBUCK. 289 
 
 learned from her little more than MarHn and Baxter 
 had already told them. Even to her mother a senti- 
 ment of maidenly modesty prevented her from reveal- 
 ing: •'^11 that occurred in her chamber at Mr. Palmer s- 
 Perhaps, too, a consciousness that her own indignation 
 was more intense than it had ever been before, and a 
 scrupulous fear of carrying revenge too far, or of in- 
 volving others in attempts at extreme violence, re- 
 strained her from exposing the whole enormity of 
 Albert Palmer's guilt. Enough was known, however, 
 to Colonel. Fitzhugh and her uncle to brand Palmer in 
 their estimation as a monster of iniquity, who had 
 wronged her whom they regarded as the most inno- 
 cent and most lovely among women. 
 
 At evening the travelers arrived at the house of a 
 farmer Avhose name was Bell. He was an acquaint- 
 ance of Doctor Fairfax, and consented to entertain 
 them for the night. This was a considerable proof of 
 hospitality ; for, although Mr. Bell had a good farm, he 
 had nothing to eat for men or horses, except a little 
 corn and bacon, which he kept concealed lest it should 
 be taken from him or destroyed. Experience had 
 taught him this fear and an adroit ingenuity in con- 
 cealing the remnants of "his supplies. Besides, there 
 was then in his house, awaiting interment, the dead 
 body of his son. The young man had been a soldier in 
 Fitzhugh's regiment, and died suddenly within a few 
 miles of his father's house. As the funeral rites of 
 "rebels" were sometimes interrupted with insult and 
 outrage in those parts of the State which were over- 
 run by the invaders, it had been deemed necessary to 
 bring home t*he body of the Confederate soldier pri- 
 vately during the preceding night, and it was to be 
 buried with equal secresy the very night of Julia's 
 
 13 
 
290 ROEBUCK. 
 
 amval. Kotwitlistanding their own destitution and 
 affliction, however, Mr. Bell and his flimily received 
 the travelers, and did all that was in their power to 
 make them comfortable. 
 
 At midnight two or three neighbors had assembled, 
 and, with them, Doctor Fairfax assisted at the inter- 
 ment of the son of his host. Tliey carried the corpse 
 to a remote pai't of the farm, followed by the father 
 and mother, and lighted only by the stars. Arriving 
 at a spot where a grave was already dug among some 
 old field pines, one of the neighbors lit the candle in a 
 lantern which he had brought. Its scanty light tinged 
 the faces of the mom*ners with a melancholy tint of 
 yellow, and faintly streaming through the pines, it 
 made the heavy masses of dark shadow more funereal. 
 No word was spoken. The rough coffin was let down 
 by means of ropes into the rude receptacle of mortal 
 dust. The first clods falling with dull rattle on the 
 boards, heard in the dead silence of midnight, and tell- 
 ing that a beloved son was to be covered away from 
 sight forever, so shocked the weeping mother that she 
 shrieked. But the cry af anguish was suppressed, and 
 all was still again. The mournful task was finished in 
 silence. 
 
ROEBUCK. 291 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 DOCTOR DICK* 
 
 Doctor Fairfax procured from Mr. Bell a suit of 
 plain clothes, and left his Confederate uniform. He 
 was about to travel through a part of the State exclu- 
 sively occupied by Federal troops. Not being an en- 
 listed soldier, he felt at liberty to assume or quit the 
 service and its badges for honest and needful pur- 
 poses at his own discretion. Traveling with his niece 
 for an innocent and pacific object, he thought that an 
 old man, in citizen's dress, might be suffered to pass 
 unmolested where a Confederate soldier would cer- 
 tainly be arrested. He did not explain to Julia that 
 this change of dress might be so interpreted, possibly, 
 as to augment his danger in case of capture. Nor 
 could he bring himself to rely so absolutely on the 
 immunity of age, innocence and a civil suit, that he 
 would leave his revolvers behind. He carried two pis- 
 tols. Thus he set out on the next day's journey in 
 ambiguous trim, hoping for peace, but prepared for 
 war. 
 
 They rode two or three hours of the morning with- 
 out inteiTuption, and having no occasion for action, 
 Doctor Dick, of course, filled up the time with talk. 
 Julia thought and felt too much for easy conversation. 
 Her uncle was free to indulge himself in soliloquy 
 or in lecture. They came upon a part of the road 
 which passed for a distance of a mile or two through 
 a forest. They were riding at a walk, and Doctoi* 
 Fairfax had fallen into a disquisition. 
 
292 ROEBUCK. 
 
 "Two rival systems of civilization" — so his dis- 
 course was running on — '■ have been developed on 
 this continent The Northern has reached its most 
 advanced stage in Massachusetts, the Southern in Vir- 
 ginia. One is founded on trade, the other on agri- 
 culture. One flourishes in cities, as in hot-houses, the 
 other ripens in the sunshine of the country. Tiie 
 Korthern is of more rapid gi'Ov,^th, the Southern more 
 perfect. By some fatality this trial of force between 
 them has been brought on soon enough to give the 
 North all the advantage of its precocious strength, 
 Avhile half the South is not yet rid of the stumps. I 
 fear, as you know, that in this struggle the North 
 will prevail. Then the world and posterity will be 
 taught that the Northern system is the best, every 
 way. The Avorld is sycophantic, and listens to a con- 
 queror. You know my opinions of this Yankee civil- 
 ization. It makes white slaves, while we use the 
 black slaves made by nature. The leading tendency 
 of our system is to cultivate virtue ; df the Yankee 
 system, to sharpen the wits. Our refinements are re- 
 finements of virtue. Our fantastic excess is an exag- 
 geration of honor and courage. The selfish princi- 
 ciples that we develop as a prop to virtue, is pride — 
 theirs, prudence. We incur among the Yankees the 
 disdain which rustics incur among city fops. The 
 prime products of our social system are noble men 
 and women. The Northern — see — there are speci- 
 mens now, I verily believe." 
 
 The travelers were emerging fi-om tlie wood, and 
 were in a view of a farm-house that stood at no great 
 distance from them. From the house a lane led to the 
 road on which they were traveling. In the lane, four 
 mounted men, in Federal uniform, leading three 
 
ROEBUCK. 293 
 
 horses, had just turned away from the house, and were 
 approaching the road. The doctor suspected that the 
 led horses had just been taken from citizens, and per- 
 haps from the farmer who lived there. The prospect 
 of meeting the soldiers was not pleasant, but there 
 was no way to avoid them, as the doctor concluded, 
 ard he resolved to advance without any appearance 
 of distrust. He slipped, however, one of his pistols 
 into the hands of Caleb, with an injunction not to 
 show it, Ror to use it, until ordered to do so by 
 his master. Julia begged her uncle to make no 
 resistance, whatever might happen. He assured 
 her that it was his purpose to avoid a collision if 
 possible. 
 
 "When the Virginians were nearly opposite to the 
 mouth of the lane, the Federal soldiers came out of it 
 and met them on the road. The doctor saluted the 
 strangers courteously, and would have passed on. 
 But a non-commissioned officer, who appeared to be 
 the leader of the party, ordered him to halt. The or- 
 der was obeyed, of course, aad he who had given it, 
 after looking at the horses, and fixing his attention 
 particularly on Arab, said : 
 
 " Them's good horses you're riding." 
 
 " They are tolerable nags," the doctor admitted. 
 
 " We're looking for sich horses, we are." 
 
 " We do not wish to sell ours." : 
 
 " Good ; we don't want to buy." 
 
 " I believe we are not likely to agree upon an ex- 
 change, either." 
 
 " You're a comical old cock. Do you take us for 
 horse-traders? Don't you see we're soldiers'? We 
 take horses, we do. I've a particular fancy for the 
 woman's horse, bat as she's a woman, we'll leave her 
 
294 ROEBUCK. 
 
 the old sorrel vre got at tliJit house. He'll do for her. 
 Come, Cuffee, take her saddle and put it on the sorrel. 
 We'll just take your horse, and the old man's saddles 
 and all." 
 
 While he was speaking, he dismounted, and ap- 
 proached Julia. She said to him in her softest tones : 
 
 " I am sure, sir, if you knew how I prize this horse 
 and for what a holy pui-pose I need him now, you 
 would not take him from me." 
 
 '' Wouldn't I, though ? Come, get down without 
 any more palaver." 
 
 He seized her by the arm and pulled her so roughly 
 downward that she was glad to leap to the ground. 
 He then lifted her veil and said : 
 
 " By that's a pretty secesh face. I must have 
 
 a kiss." 
 
 He seemed about to suit the action to the word, 
 when the crack of a pistol was heard and he fell dead- 
 Doctor Fairfax had prevented the insult. 
 
 Instantly a fight ensued, which was so sudden, 
 i-apid and brief, that Julia could distinguish nothing 
 but the firing of revolvers until it was over. She was 
 near being trampled upon by the horses in the affray, 
 but she was below the range of the shots. In a min- 
 ute the firing ceased. Two of the Federals lay dead 
 on the ground ; the other two were fiying and appar- 
 ently wounded. Caleb was down, bleeding freely. 
 Three barrels of his pistol were empty. Doctor Fair- 
 fax sat on his horse, looking at the two retreating sol- 
 diers. Presently he said : 
 
 "Julia, they have quieted old Dick," and he began 
 to sink upon the horse's neck. She ran to him, and 
 suj^ported him while he slipped to the ground. 
 
 '• Where are you hurt, Uncle Dick ?" she asked, in 
 great alarm. 
 
ROEBUCK. 295 
 
 •* Here, Julia ; hurt to death." 
 
 " Oh, no, you will not die," she cried, " you will 
 not die." 
 
 " Yes, I know — I can live but a few minutes. 
 When the breath is out, you must leave me and save 
 yourself. The villains will send others after us. I'll 
 not keep you long. I finished two of them. I be- 
 lieve another, tlianks to Caleb, is not long for this 
 world. Three Yankees the less to destroy our peo- 
 ple." 
 
 "Your voice is strong, Uncle Dick. Let me ex- 
 amine your wound. I am sure it cannot be fatal. I 
 will go for help." 
 
 " You would like to do something for Uncle Dick. 
 But it is useless. Raise my head a little — so — now 
 you have my head in your lap I can breathe a few 
 minutes longer, and I shall die easy. Ah, Julia, what 
 a tragedy of tragedies we have witnessed, with Yankee 
 power for the devil of the scene and Yankee policy for 
 the plot. If I could live a little while longer I would 
 repent of all the sins of the Yankees as they have re- 
 pented so angrily of our sin of slavery these many 
 years. Poor old Virginia, she was drawn into this 
 war by the action of the States North and South of 
 her, and now she has to fight more and sufier more 
 than any of them. AYell, I have done my duty, thank 
 God. Only a few minutes more, my dear girl. I wish 
 he had been a gentleman who shot me — I fear he was 
 a cur. Well, I forgive him ; he was a soldier. I am 
 very weak. Here is your purse in my pocket. I was 
 going to leave without giving it to you. I shall not 
 need it where I am going. Ask the people of that 
 house to take care ot my body and of Caleb — poor 
 Caleb, I fear he is badly wounded " 
 
296 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " I's gwine wid von, master," said Caleb, speaking 
 with difficulty, and falling at last from his ambitious 
 phraseology to the negro dialect, " I's gwine wid you, 
 master." 
 
 " I hope not, my faithful fellow." 
 
 " I bin always wid you ; I's gwine wid you now 
 master." 
 
 "Farewell, Caleb. God bless you. You have done 
 your duty. Then fiy, Julia. Conceal yourself until 
 night in that wood. Save your father. Tell him I 
 die for him and for you and for Virginia — as I would 
 wish to die — for the dearest objects of my love — and I 
 
 love sister Mary and We die, Julia — you are a 
 
 brave gui — the earth has not another so noble — kiss 
 me, Julia — ^^farewell — we die, but our country lives for- 
 ever — God bless Virginia — light the candle — God 
 bless " 
 
 He spoke no more. 
 
 Mr. Hart, the farmer Avho resided there, now 
 stood beside Julia. 
 
ROEBUCK. 297 
 
 ciiaptp:r xxviii. 
 
 HUGH FITZHUGH. 
 
 When Albert Palmer, abruptly abandoning his pur- 
 suit of Miss Fairfax, turned to fly from the five or six 
 Confederates who had met her, he was mounted on a 
 fleeter horse than any of theirs, and not sparing the 
 weary animal, he left them at some distance. He 
 would probably have, escaped if his horse had not 
 fallen in descending a hill. By the fall oee of the 
 rider's legs was broken, and being unable to move, he 
 was captured. He was carried by his captors into the 
 yard of a house which stood near the road, and there 
 laid on the grass, while the Confederates, giving up 
 the pursuit of his comrades, who had scattered them- 
 selves over the country, waited for the regiment to 
 come up. 
 
 Colonel Fitzhugh, after leaving Julia with her imcle 
 at the spring, ha^<:ened forward. She had told him 
 that some of his men were in jDursuit of Palmer, and 
 he had heard enough of that gentleman's recent con- 
 duct to fill him with anger. Anticipating the capture 
 of the fugitives as possible, if not probable, he medi- 
 tated the punishment that was due to such a villain. 
 His fury being the counsellor of his judgment, he was 
 ready to condemn the culprit to extreme torture of 
 any kind that imagination could conceive. In his 
 anger he dashed the spurs into his horse, as if no 
 speed was swift enough for his revenge. Whether 
 his tempestuous thought turned to the perils through 
 
 13* 
 
298 ROEBUCK.. 
 
 Avhich Julia had passed, or to those which he was 
 about to eucounter, or to the sufferings of her father, 
 or to the atrocities recently perpetrated against others, 
 or to the past career of Palmer, he became luore and 
 more enraged. In this vindictive mood he dashed on 
 to the head of his regiment. 
 
 He was amazed at the scene which he then witnessed, 
 and it recalled his mind to the duties of an officer. 
 That portion of the command which had arrived at 
 tlie place where Albert Palmer lay, was in the utmost 
 confusion and disorderly excitement. The report which 
 Marlin and Baxter had brought of his conduct had 
 been circulated among the men, and, as usual in such 
 cases, it had gathered additions as it was repeated. It 
 inflamed the minds of the soldiers to the highest pitch 
 of resentment against one Avliom they regarded as a 
 fiend. The foremost of them, seeing him in the yard, 
 gave way to the impulses of passion. Leaving the 
 ranks and dismounting, they hurried into the yard 
 with threatening cries and gestures. Others followed. 
 Forty or fifty men entered the enclosure. Shoot him 
 — he's a deserter — he's a trator — he's a murderer — he 
 tried to kill Miss Fairfiix — he hung her to a bed-post 
 — Mark Marlin had to cut her down — hang him — 
 such were the cries that expressed their purpose or 
 their passion. Some of them who were near the 
 prisoner tried to seize him, but were delayed by two 
 or three officers. A few of the men cried, don't mur- 
 der him — wait till the colonel comes — let the colonel 
 deal with him. But the increase of the crowd brought 
 an increase of excitement. The uproar of threats 
 silenced the the feeble voice of remonstrance. Eveiy 
 moment it appeared certain that the maddened mob 
 would obtain possession of Palmer and execute instant 
 revenge. 
 
ROEBUCK. 299 
 
 ^yllen Colonel Fitzliugh came upon this spectacle 
 of tumult he asked what was the matter. A soldier 
 replied, "they've got Palmer in there." 
 
 " What is he doing?" 
 
 *' Lying on the grass. They say he's wounded." 
 
 "What are the men doing?" 
 
 "They are going so hang him." 
 
 " Murder a prisoner !" 
 
 The violence of others struck him in its true light, 
 and restored his reason to the mastery over his pas- 
 sions. He leaped from his horse and into the yard. 
 Pressing forward among the men, he called to them, 
 in a voice of authority that rang above the uproar, not 
 to murder a prisoner, but to return to the ranks. 
 Those who recognized him gave way for him to pass. 
 Others, too intent on mischief to see their colonel or 
 hear his voice, were thrust aside. In a moment he 
 was beside Palmer, and looking round upon the 
 enraged soldiers, sternly commanded them to fall 
 back. They yielded with a sullen murmur to his 
 ascendancy, and slowly retired. He rebuked them for 
 the crime which they had meditated, and ordered 
 them to return to their places. Palmer implored him 
 not to let the men assassinate him, but he made no 
 reply to this supplication until the yard was cleared of 
 soldiers. Then, casting his eyes'upon the prisoner, he 
 merely said, "you are safe now." He had Palmer 
 carried into the house, and placed a guard around 
 it, under an officer on whose firmness he could rely, 
 commanding him to remain until the regiment had 
 l)assed and to follow it, taking care that no men were 
 left behind. He then informed Palmer that he was 
 to be left there at liberty, and required him to give 
 the ordinary parole of a prisoner of war. When this 
 
300 no Lii L C Iv . 
 
 matter had been arranged, the prisoner began to cx- 
 })ress gi-atitude, but the colonel abruptly left hira and 
 hastened to the regiment, which v/as again in motion. 
 Some of the men, as he passed by them, muttered, 
 " this -vvas not the "way the Yanks treated Colonel 
 Fred." He chose to be deaf to such comments. His 
 own passions, which had been so suddenly quelled, 
 began to rebel again, and he had to ride some distance 
 before he felt j)ei-fectly master of himself He then 
 took occasion to speak to his men in words of grave 
 reproof, and of the dishonor which some of them had 
 almost brought upon the regiment. He assured them 
 that in a little while he would conduct them to a far 
 more honorable revenge, and that the crimes of their 
 enemies should not go unpunished. He informed 
 them that they had a long march before them for that 
 day and coming night, and he relied on their pa'ience, 
 discipline and courage for the success of an important 
 enterprise. 
 
 When Colocel Fitzhugh was returning, successful, 
 from his expedition, and had heard of the outrages 
 which had been committed in the county of his resi- 
 dence, he resolved to strike a blow, if possible, which 
 might restrain such inhuman excesses of military vio- 
 lence for the future. The information obtained by 
 Baxter encom-aged him to believe that it was practica- 
 ble, and his interview with Julia did not tend to relax 
 his resolution. He was hastening on with a hope of 
 surprising the Federals at the village. After leaving 
 Fahner he continued the march until a late hour of the 
 night when he was within three or four miles of the 
 village. The regiment was then halted for a brief rest, 
 but, an hour before daybreak, the men Avere again in 
 their saddles. The colonel theu addressed them : 
 
ROEBUCK. 301 
 
 " Soldiers ! Virginians ! You are about to attack 
 the enemy— not soldiers but malefactors. They have 
 perpetrated their crimes at your own homes. They 
 have desecrated your own altars. They have burned 
 your own dwellings. They have robbed and insulted 
 your own families. They have made war on women 
 and children. They have defiled virgins. As you are 
 men, redress the injuries of women — of your families 
 and friends. Scourge these felons. Here revenge is 
 justice. In such a cause your sabres are sacred. 
 Count no odds against you when Heavan must bless 
 your valor. The enemy is a thousand ; you are five 
 hundred ; you are enough. Let the word be Eliza 
 Marlin. Follow me." 
 
 There was no shout in response to this address. 
 The clenched teeth would not open for cheers. There 
 was an inarticulate murmur. There was a low, contin- 
 uous clash of iron, as every man felt his sabre or his 
 carbine. Then, in stern silence, the little column 
 
 moved off. 
 
 The force at the village numbered somewhat above 
 a thousand men— a regiment of infantry about seven 
 hundred strong, and about three or four hundred cav- 
 alry. License had destroyed the discipline and im- 
 paired the vigilance of the entire force. 
 • Availing himself of his local knowledge and of the 
 information which Re had recently received. Colonel 
 Fitzhugh led his regiment, undiscovered, to a point 
 near the village, and then dashed into the centre of 
 the Federal encampment before any signal of his 
 approach was given. Officers and soldiers, suddenly 
 aroused from sleep, ran from their tents to be cut 
 down or trampled under foot, or to flee from the mer- 
 ciless sabres. On one side confusion and dismay—on 
 
30-2 ROEBUCK. 
 
 the other shouts, strokes, wrath, triumph. Pistols were 
 fired on every hand — a few muskets or rides replied. 
 Darkness added to the liorror of the scene. But 
 friends and foes knew tliat the careering horsemen 
 were Confederates and the fugitives on foot were 
 Federals. Here and there a few Federals attempted 
 to stand, but they could stand only to be slaughtered. 
 An enemy who had seen Mark Marlin there that 
 morning would have denounced the heart-broken boy 
 as an unsparing savage. He and his had not been 
 spared. All through that camp the name of his sister 
 was muttered by men who were saved from horrid 
 deeds, perhaps, by the rapid dispersion of the enemy. 
 They were men. 
 
 The Federal cavalry, finding that the infantry had 
 been scattered, took to flight without an effort at de- 
 fence. Some mounted horses without saddles or bri- 
 dles and galloped away. Others on foot scampered 
 across the adjacent fields. In a few minutes it appeared 
 to the assailants that, of tlie who^.e Federal force, none 
 remained near the village but the few who were killed 
 or severely wounded. But it was not so. Colonel 
 AYesel, whatever else he may have been, was a man of 
 courage. Though suddenly awakened by an enemy 
 in the midst of his camp, he did not lose his presence 
 of mind. He soon discovered the real state of affairs, 
 and thought only of retrieving the disaster. Using 
 the opportunities of darkness and confusion, he col- 
 lected a few men, and with them he threw himself into 
 a house at one end of the village. There he deter- 
 mined to make a stand while he sent some of his ofii- 
 cers to rally his flying troops, and a courier to the 
 nearest Federal post for succor. He did not believe 
 that the assailants were numerous or that they would 
 
ROEBUCK. 803 
 
 venture to remain long at the village. He hoped that 
 a sturdy show of resistance might even cause them to 
 retire as suddenly as they came. 
 
 As soon as Colonel Fitzhugh discovered that the 
 house was thus occupied, he divined the objects of the 
 Federal officer, and saw the necessity of dislodging 
 him at once, and of preventing the fugitives from being 
 rallied. He knew that it was impossible for him to 
 hold the village very long under any circumstances, 
 and that if any part of it could be held by the enemy 
 until reinforcements or considerations of prudence 
 should compel him to retire, the effect of his present 
 success would be neutralized. He sent a considerable 
 part of the regiment to pursue the fugitives for a time, 
 and then prepared to assault the house occupied by 
 Colonel Wesel. When the party organized for the 
 purpose was ready to make the assault the day was 
 breaking. 
 
 The assailants rushed towards the house, intending 
 to enter through the windows. When they Avere 
 within a few yards of it a well-directed volley brought 
 several of them to the earth. Mark Marlin, springing 
 forward, seized the ledge of a window which was 
 rather above his head, and drawing himself up, broke 
 in the sash with the hilt of his sword. He climbed 
 up to the window, and had almost entered, when he 
 received a shot, and tell heavily back to the ground. 
 The men behind him, and those directed to other win- 
 dows, still pressed on. But the defence was so steady 
 and effective that it was soon found necessary to recall 
 them, and the assault failed. 
 
 Colonel Fitzhugh, still deeming it necessary to dis- 
 lodge the Federal colonel as soon as possible, made 
 instant preparation for another attack. He placed 
 
304 ROEBUCK. 
 
 himself at the head of a nnmher of men deemed sufii- 
 cient for the purpose. Having procm-ed a ladder, he 
 led them, under cover of buildings, to a spot about 
 fifty yards from the house occupied by the enemy. 
 Then, while a false attack was made pn another side, 
 he rushed forward. His foremost men, carrying the 
 ladder horizontally between them, swung it, as a ram, 
 igainst the door until they broke it, but not without 
 two or three of them being wounded. As soon as an 
 opening was thus made, wide enough for a man to 
 pass. Colonel Fitzhugh dashed in, followed by his 
 men. Within the house there was a fierce fight, liand- 
 ^o-hau4- It could not last long. Colonel Wesel and 
 several of his men were killed. The rest surrendered. 
 
 The victory Avas complete, but it was purchased 
 with some precious blood. Besides other losses. Col- 
 onel Fitzhugh was dangerously wounded. He was 
 carried from the house, bleeding profusely. Calling 
 the lieutenant-colonel of his regiment to him, he ex- 
 pressed the belief that his wound was mortal, he com- 
 mended the gallantry of his men, and gave directions 
 for the burial of the dead, the care of the wounded, 
 the removal of captm-ed horses and guns, and the 
 withdrawal of his command from the village. Finally, 
 he requested that, whatever might be his own con- 
 dition, he might not be left behind. Although these 
 directions were given with coolness and clearness, 
 they were scarcely completed when he became insen- 
 sible. Afterwards he revived ; he was almost lifeless 
 when, in the afternoon, he was carried from the 
 village. 
 
 The dead body of Mark Marlin was lifted from the 
 earth and borne with tender respect by his comrades 
 to the cabin of his father, who sat on his desolate 
 hearth beside his wife ; and she was a maniac. 
 
ROEBUCK. S05 
 
 "When Mrs. Fitzhugli beard of the condition of her 
 son she followed the regiment, and taking charge of 
 him, she had hhn carried, from time to time, by short 
 stages to an interior county. There she took a cottage, 
 and attended only by her faithful Belle, devoted her- 
 self to the preservation of his life. 
 
306 TIOEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 \YASniXGTON. 
 
 "We left Julia Fairfax seated in a highway, holding in I 
 her lap the head of her deceased uncle. Kear her lay 
 his bleeding servant, and the corpses of two Federal 
 soldiers. Beside her stood Mr. Hart. Xotwithstand- 
 ing the dangers which he and his family might incur 
 if he should afford assistance to those who had pro- 
 voked the vengeance of soldiery in possession of the 
 country, he was prompt to acknowledge tke duties of 
 humanity to a woman in affliction, and to the dead 
 and wounded. He addressed her in words of sym- 
 pathy, and offered her the shelter of his house, and 
 whatever aid he could render. Pier delicate frame 
 might have sunk under the load of calamity that had 
 befallen her ; but, if she was a woman in the weakness 
 of passion, she could be a woman in the heroism of 
 duty. A sacred duty vras still before her. A gush 
 of tears discharged the natural tribute of affection and 
 grief. Then she rapidly reviewed the circumstances 
 by which she was surrounded, and concluded that it 
 was necessary for her to act promptly according to the 
 advice of her dying uncle. She thanked Mr. Hart for 
 his kind offer of assistance. She explained to him - 
 briefly that she was obliged to prosecute her journey 
 without delay. She begged him to take charge of her 
 uncle's body, and of the wounded Caleb. Tliat faith- 
 ful servant assured them that he would not trouble any 
 one Ion or in this world. When Mr. Hart had con- 
 
ROEBUCK. 307 
 
 sented to fulfil all the wishes wliicli she expressed, 
 and she had seen Caleb laid on a bed in the house, 
 she took leave of him witli many tears, and, after kiss- 
 ing the lifeless lips of her dear uncle, she bade fare- 
 well to Mr. Hart. 
 
 She went into the wood to wait for the more se- 
 cure shelter of night. Concealing herself in a ravine, 
 she tied her horse by the bridle to a limb, and sat 
 down upon the grass, leaning against the trunk of a 
 tree. There she remained alone several hours. The 
 sun went down, and the retreating shadows at length 
 stole away upon the approach of night, like faithless 
 friends at the coming of misfortune. Darkness made 
 her solitude more dismal. Hooting owls, and wailing 
 whip-poor-wills, broke, with melancholy voices, the 
 solemn silence of the forest and of night. Her clear 
 sense and natural courage usually saved Julia from 
 imaginary terrors. But her heart, already sorrowful 
 and fearful, felt the depressing influence of the scene. 
 She turned her sleepless and tearful eyes to Heaven, 
 and prayed to the friend of the friendless, who sees at 
 midnight as at noonday. It was midnight when she 
 found courage to venture upon the highway. The 
 night was friendly to her, and, by riding rapidly, she 
 left this dangerous neighborhood far behind her be- 
 fore the dawn. 
 
 Afterwards, traveling much at night, she continued 
 her journey through many difficulties and alarms, but 
 without any adventure that ought to detain the reader 
 from more important events, until she arrived within 
 ten miles of Washington City. Then, as she was 
 riding along a public road in the forenoon, she saw 
 before her a party of Federal cavalry approaching at 
 a brisk trot. To avoid meeting them, she turned her 
 
308 ROEBUCK. 
 
 liorse and rode back, intending to enter a lane which 
 she had passed, and to wait there until the cavahy 
 sliould go by. When she was about to enter the lane, 
 she heard from behind her the word ''halt." In- 
 tending to halt as soon as slie turned out of the road, 
 to avoid collision, she went on. She had scarcely 
 turned into the lane, and drawn hei: rein, when a shot 
 was fired^ and the bullet struck her horse. He made 
 one bound and then fell. Quivering with momentary 
 agony, he died. The cavalry rode on. One voics 
 exclaimed — "1 guess you'll halt next time," adding 
 some words of profane ribaldry. Julia stood by her 
 horse, not injured by his fall, but overcome with a 
 sense of utter desolation. "Poor Arab," she mur- 
 mured, "brave, gentle, faithful Arab, will they let 
 nothing live that I love V 
 
 She sat down for a few minutes, weeping. But a 
 thought of her father recalled her to the hard path of 
 duty still before her. She rose, and with a lingering 
 look of regret at the body of her last companion, set 
 out alone and afoot towards the city. She was not 
 much accustomed to walking, and she had not trav- 
 eled five miles over the hard road when she became 
 very weary, and her feet began to feel sore. Still she 
 walked on, slowly, indeed, and with frequent pauses, 
 but with perseverance. The sun was setting when 
 she found herself within the suburbs of Washington. 
 She stopped to rest, and to consider what was next to 
 be done. She did not know that she had a single 
 friend or acquaintance in the city, except her fotlier. 
 Kegarding her soiled garments and wretched plight, 
 she feared that her appearance would excite the sus- 
 picion of strangers. She imagined that not only 
 the public offices but the streets were thronged with 
 
ROEBUCK. 300 
 
 avowed enemies of Virginia who, shh inferred^ 
 would be lier enemies if she should make herself 
 known. She thought that in her dusty garb, if she 
 entered a resi)ectable hotel, she would be rejected as 
 a guest, and perhaps expelled with insult. Her pre- 
 sent perplexities, more than all the perils of her jour- 
 ney, made her plan for obtaining the release of her 
 father appear to lierself iraprajcticable. Still uncer- 
 tain what to do, she started in the dusk of evening, 
 and walked into the city. She went along Pennsyl- 
 vania Avenue, that wide and cheerloss thoroughfare. 
 Hundreds of persons met her or passed by her. She 
 did not dare to put aside her veil, or to lift her eyes 
 to their faces. She felt that they were all strangers. 
 She imagined that they looked at her with suspicion 
 or enmity. More and more disheart(^ed, more and 
 more uncertain what to do, she still walked on. At 
 length, in pas-sing a corner, she looked into a cross 
 street, thinking that perhaps it might be better for 
 her to turn into it, and so avoid the multitude who 
 thronged the side-walk of the great Avenue. By the 
 light of a lamp she saw a negro man sitting on the 
 curb-stone not far from her. Stepping aside into the 
 cross street, where she could see him more distinctly, 
 she looked at him a moment, and then said, in a low 
 voice — " Dave." He started and looked at her. She 
 raised her veil, and by the lamplight he saw her fea- 
 tures. " Miss Julia," he cried, " 'fore God, it's Miss 
 Julia." He seized her hand, which she held out to 
 him. He kissed it. He shed tears upon it Then, 
 with true African volubility and incoherence, he 
 poured forth a torrent of mixed and incongruous 
 emotions. Julia tried to check demonstrations which 
 began to attract the attention of passengers. She 
 
310 ROEBUCK. 
 
 asked Dainty Dave how he was living in "Washing- 
 ton. This was asking a renewal of his soitows, and 
 the floodgates of complaint broke loose. It appeared 
 that from the time he left Roebuck — and he was 
 among the first to desert — until that moment, his ex- 
 perience had been bitter. " O de fools, de fools us 
 niggers is" — was his own comment at several stages 
 of his story. "I's mis'able, Miss Julia, Ts starvin', I 
 ain't got no place to sleep dis night, but dis 'ere pave- 
 ment." 
 
 " Why did you leave us, Dave ?" she asked in a 
 compassionate voice. 
 
 " 'Case I was a fool, like de other niggers. Master 
 spiled me, I reckon. He was too good to dis 'ere nig- 
 ger. I thought I was a gwine to be free when I 
 done run away. I hadn't got no sense to see I was 
 free afore, and master was workin' for me as ef he 
 was my-sarvant. My blessed old master! All de 
 niggers here is mighty bad off. Miss Julia, and dere's 
 heaps of 'em. Dey is piled in cellars and places, and 
 kep in dem barracks till dey sta^wes, and gits sick and 
 dies, and sich du-ty niggers. I can't stay wid 'em. I 
 ain't used to it. But dere dey is, men and women 
 and children, all wretched, mis'able bein's, and nobody 
 keers ef dey lives or dies.'* 
 
 " Poor creatures ! What can I do to relieve them ! 
 But why do I ask? I do not know where to lay my 
 own head to-night ?" 
 
 "What you say. Miss Julia?" Dainty Dave ex- 
 claimed, in astonishment, for his attention was now, 
 for the fii*st time, turned from his own misery to 
 the condition of his young mistress. " You don't 
 know whar to go ?" 
 
 " No, Dave, I am alone, and a stran.ger in the city. 
 
ROEBUCK. 311 
 
 I liave jwst arrived, and I am not willing to go to a 
 hotel. I am in distress, and I do not know a man or 
 woman in all this great town." 
 
 "Why, whar's your cousin Clara, den ? She lives 
 liere." 
 
 " Cousin Clara V 
 
 " Mrs. West, you know." 
 
 Julia then remembered that the lady whom he 
 named, a distant relative of her father, had once 
 visited Roebuck. It was when Julia was a child, and 
 she had almost forgotten the lady. She had quite for- 
 gotten that she lived in Washington. But Dave, who 
 was older than his young mistress, remembered the 
 visit of Cousin Clara very well. She had importance 
 in his eyes, not because she came to the country from 
 the capital, but because she was *'kin to de Fair- 
 faxes." Recently he had been inquiring about her, 
 with some intention of claiming kin to keep himself 
 from starving. Shame had hitherto held him off from 
 her house, but he knew where it stood, and had 
 walked by it more than once with longing eyes. 
 When Julia recollected her distant cousin, and con- 
 Bidered that Mrs. West was the only person in the 
 city upon whom she had the slightest claim, she ac- 
 cepted Dave's offer to conduct her to the lady's house. 
 They walked on together, Dave keeping his proper 
 place as a servant, but near enough to her for conver- 
 Bation. He chattered away continually. But little of 
 his chat is worth recording. 
 
 " No, Miss Julia, freedom ain't for niggers. Dey 
 can't git de hang of it, and it don't do 'em no good. 
 Free niggers ain't got no friends. De rale friends of 
 de niggers is de good masters and mistresses what 
 takes keer of 'em. It's de ole Virginny blood dat's 
 
312 ROEBUCK. 
 
 de frieiicls of de niggers. Dem's de rale gentlemen 
 and ladies. Dey knows what to do wid sarvants. 
 But dey's gwine down. Dey's bin gwine down ever 
 Bence de universal suffrage. I knowed dat would 
 make mischief to de niggers. And now de ole fami- 
 lies is gittin' broke up by de war. Next thing, dey'U 
 have to marry quarter-masters and other low folks 
 what's made mon^y by de war. De good ole blood's 
 a gwine down. Whafll become of de poor niggers V 
 While his tongue was running on, they arrived at 
 ISIi's. West's house. Julia then divided with Dave 
 her remnant of cash, and telling him to provide for 
 himself that night, and come to see her tlie next day, 
 she dismissed him. When she entered the house, 
 and made herself known, she was received by Mrs. 
 AYest with affectionate welcome. The kind lady had 
 a pleasant remembrance of Roebuck, and esteemed 
 " Cousin Fred." as he deserved. She had a bright, 
 busy, talkative and cordial manner. With hospitality, 
 she possessed intelligence and tact. Unlike those 
 hosts who bid you make yourself at home, and then 
 leave you to shift for yourself most helplessly in a 
 sti'ange house, she could make a guest feel at home. 
 Slie had heard nothing of Colonel Faii'fax's imprison- 
 ment, but when Julia told her all her painful story, 
 she manifested such sympathy and such a warm de- 
 sire to befriend Cousin Fred., she suggested so many 
 plausible expedients for obtaining his discharge, and 
 she offoi-ed her assistance with so much apparent hope 
 of success, that to Julia's eager fancy the prison doors 
 seemed already to turn on their hinges for her father's 
 release. Grateful and hopeful, she laid her head upon 
 her pillow to di'eam of her father's happy restoration 
 to his family. 
 
ROEBUCK. 313 
 
 The next moi-ning she was up early, impatient for 
 the hour when, accompanied by Mrs. "West, she was 
 to start in search of her father. They were to take 
 the round of many prisons, and, without a chie, to 
 Look for him among an immense number of prisoners 
 then confined in the city. lie had been there so short 
 a time, and was so completely unknown to all those 
 wlio had charge of the prisons, that they could scarcely 
 expect to find him until they should happen upon the 
 very room in which he was confined. After break- 
 fast, they sallied forth upon their quest. Although 
 they traversed the magnificent distances of the city 
 in a carriage, they had walking enough in visiting the 
 various places at which they called, with climbing 
 stairs, and standing, while they awaited the leisure of 
 those to whom they made application, to fatigue even 
 the active Mrs. West. Many persons of whom they 
 inquired, knew nothing of Colonel Fairfax; others 
 declined to answer any questions. By some they 
 were treated with politeness, and by others rudely re- 
 buffed. They were very weary, and Julia was much 
 disheartened, when, late in the day, they were told 
 that a prisoner from Virginia, answering to the de- 
 scription which they gave of Colonel Fairfax, was con- 
 fined in a room before which they were then stand- 
 ing. But it was too late to obtain admittance to the 
 prisoners that day ; the person who had the custody 
 of Colonel Fairfax was not present; nothing more 
 could be learned by Julia about her fiither, not even 
 about his health. She went away, feeling disappoint- 
 ment and anxiety almost as painful as if she had not 
 discovered the place of his imprisonment. 
 
 The next day the ladies returned. The custodian 
 of Colonel Fairfax then informed them that they 
 
 U 
 
"Sli ROEBUCK. 
 
 could not be admUted to see liim without a special or- 
 der from lii^rher nuthority. As to t1ie prisoner's 
 health, he did not know much, except that " he 
 seemed to be pretty bad," but he referred them to the 
 Burgeon. Inquiring where the surgeon was to bo 
 found, and receiving a very vague direction, they 
 started in searcli of that officer. Besides the anxiety 
 of Julia to ascertain her father's true condition after 
 receiving the uncertain but alarming information 
 which she had just heard, Mrs. West suggested that 
 a certificate from the surgeon might promote the s'.ic- 
 cess of their application to be admitted into the prison. 
 But it was several hours before they found the surgeon. 
 He replied to their inquiries with civility, and when 
 he knew that Julia was the daughter of the prisoner, 
 he looked at her with compassion, for he was a man 
 of great benevolence. In tenderness to her he soft- 
 ened the report which he gave of her father's condi- 
 tion as much as truth permitted, and he soothed her 
 with general expressions of hope. But, by "the use of 
 a little dexterity, he contrived to inform Mrs. AVest, 
 aside, that Colonel Fairfax could not live many days, 
 if he remained in prison. At her request, he slipped 
 into her hand a certificate to that efi*ect. This was an 
 ariifice of kindness to save the daughter from dis- 
 tress »w^hich, as they feared, might overcome her, but 
 Mrs. West afterwards discovered that Julia had in- 
 ferred from the cautious conversation of the surgeon 
 the actual danger to her father's life. Reserve could 
 no longer be useful, and the certificate was shown 
 to her soon after they parted with the surgeon. They 
 then endeavored to procure the necessary order for 
 admittance into the prison, but official hours were 
 over, and a,nother day closed with disappointment. 
 
ROEBUCK. 315 
 
 Such delays would have been painful under any ch*- 
 cumstances, but, with the knowledge whicli they 
 had acquired, Julia sj^ent the following night in an- 
 guish. 
 
 Wearisome to the ladies, and worse than wearisome 
 to the prisoner's daughter, were the next few days ; 
 for so long was it before Julia obtained permission 
 to see her father. Those who have had expei-ience 
 in pressing an application, however trivial and unob- 
 jectionable, though official routine, can understand 
 how a whole day may be spent without any progress 
 in such affairs. When the applicants were women, 
 seeking fiivor for a rebel from the servants of the of- 
 fended government, it may be imagmed that delays 
 and obstacles were multiplied. But Mrs. West was 
 never disheartened. She had been through such 
 ti-ials of patience before. She was one of those women 
 who habitually assuaged the miseries of the war by 
 charities to the unfortunate. To relieve them, she had 
 passed through scenes which were often repulsive, 
 and sometimes revolting to a lady. With officials, her 
 gentle importunity, now pathetic and then laughing, 
 would not be denied. Besides, she had acquired 
 much knowledge of the secret springs of influence at 
 Washington. Finally, with the use of the surgeon's 
 certificate, and of her own energy and adroitness, she 
 succeeded in procuring, not only permission for Julia 
 to visit her father in prison, but an order for his dis- 
 charge, lie was to be set free, however, only upon 
 condition that lie would first take an oath of allegiance 
 to the Federal government in a prescribed form. 
 
816 ROEBUCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 FREDERICK FAIRFAX. 
 
 Julia "vrent to the prison. Iler step had lost tho 
 elastic lightness of youth, health and happiness. She 
 walked with the nervous celerity of painful excite- 
 ment. The bloom had faded from her cheeks. Above 
 their pallor, her eyes gleamed with unnatural lustre. 
 In her fluttering pulse, suffering and heart-sicknes3 
 had extinguished the energy of hope and high re- 
 Bolve. But despair was still kept at bay by the ex- 
 pectation of seeing her father, and relieving him by 
 filial ministrations. 
 
 She found him in a small room — a mere cell. It 
 was gloomy, having only one window, a little grated 
 opening. He lay on the floor, with no bed, but soma 
 wisps of dirty, broken straw. The close, corrupted 
 air almost stifled Julia as she entered. The cell con- 
 tained several prisoners besides her father. They 
 might have been long there, for their faces had the 
 dead whiteness and sullen indifference which come of 
 long imprisonment. They let the spider weave his 
 web over their naiTOw window without raising a hand 
 to brush it away. Colonel Faii-iiix was looking round 
 upon them, and, as Julia entered the door, she heard 
 him faintly utter the words " poor fellows I" When, 
 by the dusky light, admitted through dirty panes, she 
 saw him lying on the floor, none but a daugliter 
 would have recognized his form and features. His 
 wound, his frightful journey to the Federal capital, 
 
ROEBUCK. 317 
 
 imprisonment, suffering, grief had conquered his 
 manly frame. His eyes were sunken ; his cheeks 
 were hollow and haggard ; his beard was long and 
 white ; his grey hair was matted, his form was ema- 
 ciated and distorted with pain; his garments were 
 soiled by the filth in which he lay. In all this squalid 
 wretchedness nothing could be seen which seemed 
 properly to belong to that noble gentleman but the 
 benignity of his countenance as he looked round upon 
 his fellow-prisoners. 
 
 His daughter hastened to his side, and sobbing, 
 " my father, my father," she knelt down and kissed 
 him again and again. Her tears trickled in showers 
 upon his face. Laying her cheek to his, she wept in 
 speechless agony. " Julia, my sweet child," he whis- 
 pered, " do not give Avay to despair. God is mer- 
 ciful. We are in his hands." She could answer only 
 with tears. She had come to comfort him, but the 
 first sight of him had dissolved her firmness. She re- 
 covered her voice only to cry out, " O God ! O God ! 
 can such goodness be doomed to such misery ? my 
 father, my father!" His eyes filled with tears, and, 
 for a time, he could not speak. At length her parox- 
 ysm of uncontrollable grief was past. She recalled to 
 mind the duty which she had come to discharge. She 
 eat upon the floor, and wiped her eyes. But her lip 
 still quivered, and she feared to make an effort to 
 speak, lest her self-control should abandon her again. 
 "Speak to me, my daughter. Tell me of your 
 mother. My beloved wife!" 
 
 " Yes, papa ; she is with kind friends. Her great 
 trouble is for you." 
 
 "My wife, my wife, my wife!" 
 " When she knows that you are — are safe, she will 
 be comforted." 
 
318 ROEBUCK. 
 
 " May God comfort her." 
 
 " When she sees you again she will be happy. ** 
 
 " Ah, me ! My unhappy wife I" 
 
 " "We shall be happy yet, papa." 
 
 " Yes — hereafter," he said, looking upward. 
 
 " At home, dear papa." 
 
 "Yes, in Heaven." 
 
 " You must recover your health. We shall go to 
 mother. Then love will make us all happy." 
 
 " Do not delude yourself, my daughter. We must 
 now look for happiness beyond this world. My gentle 
 Mary ! My wife, my wife, my wife !" 
 
 " Listen to me, my dear papa. I have an order for 
 your release from imprisonment." 
 
 " Can this be true, Julia ? Then I may live to see 
 my Mary." 
 
 He uttered these words with more vigor than he 
 had displayed since his daughter entered the room. 
 His face was suddenly lighted with a flash of joy. He 
 laid his thin hand on Julia's waist, and feebly press- 
 ing her to him, he kissed her fondly. The new-born 
 hope of freedom and of household endearments was 
 very sweet. The calm of resignation, which had be- 
 fore succeeded the extinction of hope, was ruffled. 
 For a few moments he cherished his joy in silence. 
 His imagination flew to her whom he had loved so 
 long, so wisely and so well. The image of his daugh- 
 ter went with him to the side of his wife, and his love 
 revelled in domestic bliss. Julia saw this happiness 
 in his face, and she feared to dash it by an allusion to 
 the condition upon which he was to be released. She 
 was silent until he spoke. 
 
 "Why, then, my darling, do we remain here 
 longer V he whispered at last 
 
ROEBUCK. 319 
 
 " Are you able to go ?" she asked, with compassbn- 
 ate evasion. 
 
 "Yes, yes ; let me be earned away. I must see my 
 wife. I have not long to live. I must see may wifo 
 once more. Why do you look troubled, daughter ? I 
 can bear the pain of removal. Let us go.'* 
 
 *' O, my dear papa, I must tell you. The order is 
 that you must take the oath of allegiance to the Fede- 
 ral government before you will be released." 
 
 He gazed at her a little while, as if he did not fully 
 comprehend the import of her words. Then his eyes 
 closed. His pallid cheeks gradually became livid. 
 His lips moved but uttered no sound. His fingers 
 gi'asped the straw nervously. Julia trembled with 
 alarm. She feared that the last shock had killed her 
 father. She almost shrieked ; but she held her heart 
 to its ten-ible task. She was still to sustain and com- 
 fort her father. Bending over him, she kissed his 
 brow, and whispered, " Papa, speak to me. Speak to 
 your Julia." He opened his eyes and murmured 
 a blessing upon his devoted child. She held his hand 
 and softly pressed it, but again her emotion was swell- 
 ing so high that she could not trust herself to utter a 
 word. After a long pause, which seemed like death 
 he looked up and said, " I am resigned, Julia. God's 
 will be done." He relapsed into silence, although his 
 lips moved as if he repeated to himself what was pass- 
 ing in his mind. 
 
 " I cannot, my daughter," at length he said, 
 " while Virginia remains distinct from the Federal 
 government, — I cannot take that oath. My allegiance 
 is due to my State. I will not abjure her in her dire 
 extremity. I will not betray the cause of my fellow 
 citizens who daily march to death. Let me die with 
 
320 ROEBUCK. 
 
 them. Let me die for Tir^nia. I can die, Julia, 
 even thus — my wife — my daughter — even thus I can 
 bear to die, but I cannot take a false oath. Death has 
 power over my body only ; perfidy would taint ray 
 soul." 
 
 " They say, papa, that such oaths, when taken under 
 compulsion " 
 
 " Tempt me not, my daughter. Tempt not a fi-ail 
 old man. Tlie struggle has already wrung my heart. 
 It has nearly put out this flickering life. I might not 
 be able to resist the persuasion of my beloved, my 
 unhappy daughter. O, spare your father." 
 
 His imploring anguish almost bereft her of all con- 
 trol over her passion. He clasped one of her hands 
 between both his own on his breast. She laid her 
 other hand on his forehead. Alternately he lifted his 
 eyes to Heaven in mute supplication, or fixed them 
 upon the face of his daughter with an expression of 
 tender, yearning, unspeakable love. 
 
 "Be not too much cast down by our misfortunes," 
 he said, when he spoke again, '• do not give way to 
 despair. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken 
 away. Blessed be the name ©f the Lord. May he 
 protect you and your mother when I am gone." After 
 a brief pause he continued — " do not let your heart be 
 corroded with resentment against our enemies. They 
 are mortals like ourselves, and they are blinded by the 
 passions of war Let us forgive as we hope to be 
 forgiven." 
 
 Again he lay, apparently engaged with thoughts 
 which his waning strength did not enable him to 
 utter. It was manifest that lie was sinking. But he 
 rallied a little and again addressed his daughter : 
 
 " Julia, I loved the Union. I would have given my 
 
ROEBUCK. 821 
 
 life to save it. Bat it is gone. However this war 
 may end, the Union which I loved is gone forever. 
 The free Union of sovereign States can never be re- 
 Btored, though the South may be subjugated. If our 
 States should be conquered I trust that the spu-it of 
 our people will not be debased. The hope of liberty 
 never dies while the manhood of the people survives. 
 Liberty may be destroyed in one form, like this body, 
 and yet live on like the soul. God grant that the 
 freedom of our country may endure forever.'* 
 
 Julia, believing that when her father ceased to 
 speak, his mind was occupied with meditations which 
 she ought not to interrupt, waited in silence for him 
 to speak to her again. But what she next heard was 
 not addressed to her. He was repeating — 
 
 "There the wicked cease from troublinir, and there 
 the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together ; 
 they hear not the voice of the oppressor." 
 
 When he next addressed her it was to ask if she had 
 lately seen Hugh. She replied that she had, and that 
 he was well. 
 
 " Give him my blessing, Julia. He is worthy of 
 you. You will be a good wife. He will be a son to 
 your mother." 
 
 These words were uttered with extreme difficulty. 
 Afterwards he was silent, but restless. Sometimes the 
 BAigle word '' wife " or "daughter" murmured from 
 his lips. 
 
 The changes that came over his face foreboded 
 the near approach of the last change of all. Julia 
 saw that the end was at hand. She sat motion- 
 less, gazing upon him and waiting for the dread event. 
 At last a placid calm settled upon his features. His 
 lips moved — "Heavenly Father" — though his lip3 
 
 14* 
 
322 ROEBUCK. 
 
 continued to move, no more of the last prayer of tbo 
 good man was heard on earth. 
 
 When Julia saw that he was dead she did not shed 
 a tear. She uttered not a word nor a sigh. She 
 placed his head in her lap and kissed his lips, as she 
 might have kissed him in his sleep. She gave no 
 outward sign of sorrow ; her sorrow was unutterable. 
 Thus she sat, when a gruff voice notified her that the 
 time had come for her to retire. She raised her tear- 
 less eyes to the man and- said, in a low voice, " my 
 father is dead ; let me stay with him." The man re- 
 plied, not with particular rudeness, but according to 
 the habit of his place, " it is against orders ; you 
 must go." She quietly lifted that venerable head from 
 her Mp and laid it on the straw. She kissed the cold lips . 
 once more, and then she rose up and walked away 
 without a tear or a sigh. She was benumbed with 
 despair. 
 
 It was not until hours afterwards, it was at mid- 
 night in the solitude of her chamber, that the icy rigor 
 of despair melted into overflowing grief 
 
 The next morning she was unable to rise from her 
 bed. Mrs. West went out and made application for 
 the body of Colonel Fairfax, in order that he might 
 have the customary rights of sepulchre. Her applica- 
 tion was refused. He was buried among strangers. 
 Those who loved him cannot weep over the unknown 
 grave of Frederick Fairfax. 
 
ROEBUCK. 323 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 In a few clays Julia was able to travel. Though 
 feeble in body and bruised in spirit, she would not 
 rest longer from the sad duties that remained for her. 
 She must return to her mother. She must return 
 without her i\Uher. She must bear tidings of his 
 death to his heart-broken Vife. She must console 
 her widowed mother, or, as appeared more probable, 
 smooth her path to the grave. On such melancholy 
 duties the unhappy but unselfish gui bent her pious 
 thoughts. 
 
 At that time the Federal authorities were permitting 
 all women and children to go into the Confederacy, 
 and were sending thither some of them who would 
 have preferred to remain at their homes within the 
 Federal lines. Without difficulty, therefore, Mrs. 
 West procured a passport for Julia to go to Richmond, 
 and took passage for her upon a steamboat, which, 
 under a flag of truce, landed passengers within a few 
 miles of the Confederate capital. Thus was she trans- 
 ported, with her burden of sorrow, to her afflicted 
 but still beloved State. 
 
 At Richmond she heard that Hugh Fitzhugh had 
 been dangerously wounded, and that fie was lying very 
 low in the county to which he had been taken by his 
 mother. Sorrows thickened about her at every step. 
 That passionate love Avhich, in young hearts, rules 
 with exclusive dominion, would have carried her to 
 the side of her wounded lover. She felt all the tea- 
 
824 ROEBUCK. 
 
 der tyranny of that passion. Bui her love for her 
 mother, cherished from her birth, had been tln-ough 
 life associated -vvith a sentiment of duty. It was now 
 consecrated by domestic afilction. Duty was not 
 doubtful, and Julia hastened to her mother. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax, during her daughter's absence, con- 
 tinued to decline in health and strength. "When Julia 
 entered her apartment she raised herself with sudden 
 and unusual energy in her bed. She stretched out 
 her arras to embrace her daughter. While they 
 clasped each other she cried, " your father, Julia, have 
 you seen your father?" 
 
 " Yes, dearest mamma, I have seen him." 
 
 " Has he come with you ?" 
 
 " O, mamma, mamma, he has not come. He can- 
 not — he will not — O dear, dear mamma, he will never 
 come." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax silently sunk down upon the bed. 
 Julia laid her head on the pillow beside her mother's, 
 endeavoring to comfort her with nestling fondness. 
 The widow uttered no loud lamentation. A few sobs 
 and broken sentences expressed her agony. A few 
 great tears trickled over her temples. She closed her 
 eyes to shut out the world, which for her had lost its 
 light. She lay bleeding inwardly. The tenm*e of her 
 life was broken. 
 
 Thenceforth she faded away. In long hours of 
 silence, by day and by night, the hope of being united 
 once more and forever with her husband in a better 
 v/orld, occupied her mind. Her daughter was always 
 with her, denying herself almost entirely the repose 
 which she so much needed. Her sweet, untiring, 
 patient love soothed the wounds of the heart which no 
 earthly hand could heal. Sometimes she allured her 
 
ROEBUCK. 325 
 
 mother into conversation, and they talked of by-gone 
 days, or of those who were most dear to them, or of 
 whatever subject had interest enough for the widow 
 to withdraw her attention from fatal griefs. Whether 
 in conversation or in meditation, religion was always 
 present to the thoughts of both, for both were sin- 
 cerely pious, and death, then familiar alike to memory 
 and to expectation, brought religion constantly before 
 them as the light of the grave. Mrs. Fairfax was 
 sometimes visited by the Reverend Mr. Ambler, who 
 had left the village with Fitzhugh's regiment when 
 the Federals were driven out, and he was now sojourn- 
 ing a few miles from the house in which she was a 
 guest. From him she received those counsels and 
 consolations which it was his office to bestow, and all 
 that tender sympathy which the calamities of his dear- 
 est friends excited in the bosom of this venerable 
 man. When they conversed, as sometimes they 
 must, of the terrible misfortunes which had befallen 
 their country as well as themselves, and the soul of 
 Mrs. Fairfax was steeped in sorrow, he presented the 
 only solace which remained for such misfortunes. 
 Often she desired her daughter to sing, and her musi- 
 cal voice seemed to alleviate the widow's grief It was 
 a severe trial of Julia's fortitude to control her own 
 agitation and modulate her voice to music, especially 
 when her mother asked her to sing such hymns aa 
 this : 
 
 IIYMK. 
 
 "We cry to thee, O Father of the fatherless, 
 Out of the depths, O Friend of the forlorn : 
 
 Among their dead the living call in dire distress, 
 The orphans wail, the widowed mothers mourn. 
 
826 ROEBUCK. 
 
 The earth is darkened and the heav'ns are as a pall ; 
 
 In starless gloom vre pray to Thee for light : 
 Out of the depths, while sorrow overshadows alU 
 
 We call to Thee, O Father ; all is night. 
 
 To prayer thine ear is ever open as the skj — 
 
 To cries of woe or secret Righs of care : 
 All tears are known to Him who deigned on earth to die | 
 
 Thi-ough Him, his tears and blood, O hear our prayer. 
 
 Let there be light where crime and fear and anguish fill 
 
 With darkness all the circle of our sun : 
 But if for sin our stricken hearts must suffer still, 
 
 Thy name be hallowed and Thy will be done. "' 
 
 When Mrs. Faii'fax became certain that she was 
 about to die she was not only resigned, but wag 
 almost cheerful. Finally she fell into the sleep that 
 knows no waking, as gently as a babe falls asleep in 
 a mother's arms. 
 
 Julia, after fulfilling her last filial duty, accepted an 
 invitation from Mrs. Fitzhugh to visit that lady at the 
 cottage which she then occupied with her son. Be- 
 fore leaving the county, a natural feeling induced 
 Julia to visit Roebuck, which she had not seen since 
 she was driven from the house by fire, and snatched 
 from her parents by violence. She found a scene of 
 desolation where, according to her fond recollection, 
 she had known a paradise. The grounds in which 
 her childhood had played were strewn with fragments 
 of their former decorations. The garden which she 
 had left in blooming beauty was covered with a mat 
 of trampled stems. Here and there scanty patches 
 of corn were lazily cultivated by the negroes who 
 remained, but over wide fields the wheat, unhar- 
 
ROEBUCK. 327 
 
 Tested, was left to rot, and the corn was overgrown 
 with weeds. Fences were destroyed, barns were 
 bnmt, fruit-trees were cut down. Blackened, roofless 
 walls were all that remained of the elegant mansion 
 in which a happy family had lived so long, in the 
 unity of love, and in the practice of every dome&tio, 
 every social virtue. There, whatever is admirable in 
 refinement was familiar as a household habit. There, 
 a generous hospitality, and more generous charity, 
 were dispensed as duly as the prayer for daily bread 
 was repeated at morning and evening. When Julia 
 stood alone, a solitary orphan, on the marble steps 
 which had been trodden by so many entering and do- 
 parting guests, she looked through the opening, in 
 which the hospitable door had stood, and saw nothing 
 but ashes. The scenes of happiness within those 
 walls which her memory now recalled, served only to 
 deepen her sense of desolation. But most sorrowful 
 of all associations with the scene, were the recent suf- 
 ferings and death of her father and mother, and of an 
 uncle whom she had loved almost as dearly as she 
 loved her parents. As she stood among the ruins of 
 her home, and wept over the calamities of her family, 
 vividly remembering the dreadful scenes through 
 which she had passed, and looking forward to a dark 
 futxu-e, a feeling overcame her, not unlike the despair- 
 ing sentiment of the Preacher : — " So I returned and 
 considered all the oppressions that are done under the 
 sun ; and beheld the tears of such as were oppressed, 
 and they had no comforter ; and on the side of their 
 oppressors there was power ; but they had no com- 
 forter. Wherefore, I praised the dead which are al- 
 ready dead, more than the living which are yet alive. 
 yea, better is he than both they which hath not yet 
 
328 ROEBUCK. 
 
 been, who hath not seen the evil work that is done 
 under the sun." 
 
 But the soul of Julia Fairfax could not long dwell 
 in the degradation of despair. She could not long 
 cherish a vindictive feeling. The most unhappy life 
 could not »ppear worthless to one who valued life for 
 the power of doing good. In misfortune her tender 
 heart yielded the tribute which nature demands, but 
 then, without repining, and without resentment, she 
 turned with firm, though gentle resolution, to the du- 
 ties which misfortune imposes. 
 
 After this visit to Roebuck, she took leave 
 of the kind friends who had given shelter to 
 her mother, and went to the humble cottage of 
 Mrs. Fitzhugh. The old lady received her with 
 motherly affection. Hugh had passed the crisis of 
 danger, and was slowly recovering. Yet it was not 
 deemed certain that his former strength would ever 
 be restored. "When he was first brought to the cot- 
 tage, every one who saw him, except his mother, ex- 
 pected him to die from hour to hoiw. But the brave 
 and proud woman would not believe that her gallant 
 son was to die. Disdaining to yield to her own in- 
 firmity, she nursed him with unremitting care. Others 
 often would have relieved her of this duty, but she re- 
 garded herself as a sentinel between life and death for 
 her son, and she would not desert her post. AVhen 
 Julia arrived, he was still feeble, but he was out of 
 danger. 
 
 His love was as balm to her heart. Consoling and 
 consoled, she felt the power of mutual love to sweeten 
 sorrow. He desired tliat their marriage should take 
 place without delay. Whatever objections she urged, 
 he derived arguments so forcible from the circum- 
 
ROEBUCK. 329 
 
 stances in which they were placed, that, in a short 
 time, with her coy consent, he sent for the Reverend 
 Mr. Ambler, and Julia Fairfax became the bride of 
 Hugh Fitzhugh. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
\ 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 942